


The Adventures of Steve Rogers

by Raw_Ramen_Noodles



Series: The Effects of Avengers: Endgame on the Multiverse [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Avengers (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - 2010s, Avengers Endgame, Avengers Endgame fix-it, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Falling Out of Love, Getting Together, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Moving On, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon Fix-It, Resurrection, Time Travel Fix-It, endgame spoilers, no toxic masculinity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raw_Ramen_Noodles/pseuds/Raw_Ramen_Noodles
Summary: Steve Rogers, the man out of time, they called him. Here he was now, in the year 2023, over a decade since he left the ice and still unable to move on from his past. All his mistakes weighing down on him, pushing, pushing, pushing until he breaks. Until he has to leave, has to run as far and as fast as he can. Natasha was dead. Tony was dead. Steve was plagued with nightmares.Lost.Alone.That is, until Bruce approaches him with a new mission, one to save the universes... and possibly a chance for him to get away from all his mistakes. If he was lucky, maybe even fix them.Maybe.Or: Steve is sad and alone when Bruce offers him what Steve sees as a chance to flee to the past and he takes it. And he decides to fiddle with the timeline a little because he can and he may as well fix his mistakes during his escape.
Relationships: Howard Stark/Maria Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: The Effects of Avengers: Endgame on the Multiverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691221
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. The End of A Decade, But the Start of an Age

Steve looks up at the ceiling. He hasn't slept all night, yet the sun rose once more. Yellow light flicked across his vision, and he knows that to go to sleep now would be bad. So he rises, feeling a heaviness to his movements. His hair is dirty, so he walks into the bathroom, pointedly not looking at the broken shield sitting on his table. His reflection looks back at him, 15 years seem to slip away before his eyes. He sighs, turns around, and peels his clothes from his sweaty body. Just because he hadn't slept tonight, didn't mean he hadn't been plagued by nightmares that sent his heart racing. He steps into the shower, turning it up. He can't exactly tell if it is hot or cold water, but it feels nice. With militant precision he hurries through his shower, then steps out, steeling his shoulders for what comes next. On his way to his closet, he passes his discarded suit... the one Tony had made him. His chest collapses in on itself. He pulls on his other suit—the funeral one. The one Tony had bought him for the funeral they had held after the decimation. There had been nothing to bury, but it had needed to be done. Clint hadn't come. Thanos had been dead, and they needed to move on. Tony actually did. Steve never could bring himself to. 

It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Tony; the man deserved to be happy more then most. Steve had just never been good at moving on. He hadn't been able to fully move on from Bucky or Peggy... the 40's in general. He had wanted to. He had longed to start something new. Bucky came back to him, but Peggy was gone. Peggy... Peggy was lost to him long before she had died. Tony was lost to him long before he died. Bucky could still move on. Steve had brought him back. Bucky was back to him once more. Except Bucky wasn't his. Bucky shouldn't be his. Steve's biggest regret was knowing that he hadn't moved on, but Bucky still could. There was no place for Steve here any longer; it was time to go. It was time to let Bucky move on. It was time for Steve to get on with his life, but he couldn't do that here. 

So Steve had to leave. 

He looks into the mirror and sees the tears streaming down his face, such a contrast from his impeccable suit. With shaky hands, he brushes away his tears, the cuffs of his suit getting wet. He looks away from the mirror, walking away, to the kitchen. Everything here looked like Tony, the sleek lines of impeccable architecture, the huge windows, the lights he knows run on Ark Reactor power. The kitchen is mostly empty, upon first glance, but upon further observation he sees a small army of ants marching towards a bagel. Scott was here. The kitchen was never empty. Nat was always here. That was her knife on the counter, the peanut butter she always left out, the mission reports hung on the fridge, notated in her handwriting. 

But Nat wasn't coming back for another peanut butter sandwich. He screws the lid back on, and puts it away in the cabinet. "Morning Scott," he says.

"Good morning sir," Scott says softly, back to full size when Steve turns back to look at him. He's wearing all black, and there's a small chunk of bagel in his cheek. "Look, I'm sure this is all really hard but—" he rambles quickly. 

"Don't. I'm alright." Steve tries to muster a smile, but he suspects his efforts failed judging by the look persisting on Scott's face. "People die. Tony and I weren't close." He wasn't lying, he wasn't. Tony and he weren't friends anymore; Steve had burned that bridge long ago. He would fight Tony again in that bunker to save Bucky's life, but given the chance he wouldn't lie to him. Not again, not ever. 

"Ok man. But I'm here." 

"Thanks Scott. You want some pancakes?" If Tony were here, he would tell Steve not to cook in his expensive suit. His chest twists.

"Sure, cap. Thanks." Steve doesn't reply, but he makes the pancakes. Thankfully, Scott has the mind to keep quiet, until Steve sets a stack of pancakes down in front of him. "These look good. We need to get going in thirty." 

"Okay. Is Hope coming?" 

"Yeah. She's driving separate." 

Steve nods, then he picks up a pancake and bites into it, leaning over the counter, carefully avoiding the ants. His phone buzzes in his pocket, so he pulls it out. 

_Hey Steve, it's Pepper. We found a message from Tony, if you want to come over early and watch it._

_Yeah. Thanks._

He leans up, grabbing five more pancakes, and biting into the small stack. "I've gotta go, Scott. Bruce and Thor should both still be here."

"Alright, bye Cap." 

His phone buzzes again

_No problem. See you soon._

"Thanks," he says earnestly, not missing the pitying look Scott gives him before he turns away, walking out towards the garage. He appreciates it, really. But his mind was made up. He needed to leave. Maybe if he left—maybe he could move on. Move on from all his mistakes. It was a fool's errand, but he had to go. If he could, if there was even half a chance, he had to take it. He couldn't live his life with all this regret. It was too much for one man, no matter how strong he was. Nat had been his support system for five years, and he had just gotten Tony back. 

The gleaming black motorbike waits for him, the same as he had last left it. He mounts it, his hands wrapping tightly around the handles. Before he can think, he's racing down the road, wind whipping through his hair as he flies towards Pepper's cabin. It was a route he knew well—he had driven there often over the past five years. He just never worked up the courage to finish the drive down the driveway. The last step was a canyon, one he had jumped too late. 

He was always too late. Too late to save Bucky. Too late to love Peggy. Too late to fix him and Tony. He spent his whole life dwelling on the past and missing what he could do if he took the last step. 

He was "the man out of time," and he was, fittingly, always out of time. 

Before he knows it, he's at the cottage, driving down the driveway he had been so scared of. Pepper sits on the porch, Morgan on her lap. She musters a weak smile for Steve, and he finds one for her too. "Hey Morgan!" He says, walking up the porch stairs. 

"Hi Mr. Steve," she says quietly, looking up at him with freshly puffy eyes. 

"Hi Pepper," Steve says, looking up at her, immaculately put together despite the situation. Not a hair on her head was out of place, and she didn't look like she had been crying, only that she was so empty. 

"Steve." She gives him a nod, tapping Morgan's back for her to get up so Pepper could rise. "Sorry I didn't text earlier." 

"It's alright. I'm just.. glad you did." The longer he looked at her, the more he could tell that she had been crying, just not sense applying her makeup. The look on her face was the same one he had seen that morning in the mirror. 

Morgan takes Peppers hand, and Pepper squeezes it. "Let's head inside." Steve gets the door for them, and mother and daughter walk in, Pepper sitting on the couch next to Happy and Morgan situating herself on Pepper's lap. Steve goes to stand behind them, next to Thor, who was also apparently here. Pepper pushes something on a remote, and Tony appears, sitting backwards in a chair. Rhodey shifts in his seat, his hand clenching the arm of his chair. Steve remains as still as a block of wood, the only sign of agitation a tightening of his jaw. 

"Everybody wants a happy ending, right?" Steve's gut clenches. He didn't try hard enough. 

"But it doesn't always roll that way." Nothing ever rolled the right way for them. 

"Maybe this time." Tony pauses, but the fear in his virtual eyes is visible. His voice is hopeful, nearly pleading. 

"I'm hoping if you play this back, it's in celebration." Morgan nestles closer into Peppers chest, staring up at Tony. 

"I hope families are reunited." Steve can almost feel the sorrow radiating off of Pepper with those words. Tony had reunited millions of families, and torn his own to shreds. 

"I hope we get it back and something like a normal version of the planet is restored if there ever was such a thing." It was. It was, you did it, Steve wishes he could say. It is back, we got it all back, but it wasn't worth it. Wasn't it though? One man and one woman for half the universe? Wasn't that a fair trade?

"God, what a world.. universe now." Thor sniffles, rubbing at his nose, the only sound breaking the all consuming of Tony's voice. 

"If you told me 10 years ago that we were in alone let alone to this extent, I-I-I wouldn't've been surprised but you know."

"Epic forced of darkness and light—" he continues to talk, and Steve watches, until the final words Tony Stark ever had for them in this life—everything's going to work out exactly the way it's supposed to. I love you 3000–directed at Morgan, of course, but for a spare second, Steve imagines that they were for him. A declaration of love, sure, but it was forgiveness. Something in his mind protested that the words weren't his, but the hope is enough. The hope that Tony truly had forgiven him for everything. 

And above all, the idea that everything went how it had to. He hears a strangled, pitiful sound come out of his throat, then he feels pain splitting through his knees. Two hands find his cheeks moments later, and he returns to reality to find Morgan's face in front of his. "Don't cry Mr. Steve." He pulls the girl to his chest, giving her the biggest hug he can muster. 

"You never forget that your daddy was a good man, Morgan, that he was a hero. That he loved you." She falls silent, relaxing into his arms. 

"I know." 

Steve pulls back, a real smile on his face through the tears. "Of course you do. You're a smart kid, Morgan." As smart as Tony. She looked like him too. Steve's chest aches with the need to protect her, but that wasn't his job. She needed her mother, Happy, Rhodey. Not a broken hundred old man who's lost everyone he's ever known multiple times. "Smart like your daddy," he adds, then let's go of her, seeing Pepper's heels looming next to him. 

"Steve will you come out back with me." She, at least, has the decency to not look at him like he's useless... even if he is. Her voice isn't exactly angry, but Steve can tell that she doesn't want him near her daughter. 

"I—yeah." He gets to his feet, and walks after her, sparing a look to Rhodey, who's head is in his hand and who's shoulders are shaking. The screen door closes behind them, and she closes the glass one too. "Pepper I'm—"

"No, my turn. Steve, look. I know that you loved Tony—"

"I'm not—"

"But. So did I. I get it, but I need you to be strong. I need you to not gush to my five year old. I need you to move on. The world is sorely lacking with Tony and Nat gone, and you need to get it together so nobody can take advantage of us again. Whatever that means for you, it needs to happen." Her voice isn't pitiful, but it isn't mean either. She doesn't waver once, and Steve has half the mind to think that she would be the strongest of all of them if she took up heroism. 

"I can't Pepper. You know I can't." 

"Did you know that we have a security system that alerts us when someone enters our private property. You visited at least once a month for five years. But oddly enough, you never came up. Not once." Steve's cheeks flush, and he opens his mouth to offer a half assed explanation. "I know you were in love with my husband. I don't care. You never came up until it was with the idea of the time heist. Point is, for five years, you've lived with a nagging hope that you could get Tony to forgive you. He did. The first time you came up, he told me to tell you to piss off and he went down to his lab. Eventually, he would watch you pace in the middle of the road. Sometimes he would say he wanted to go out there and invite you in. Bit by bit, he forgave you. You can let go now Steve, you have to let him go. There are no more what ifs. So you just have to move on like the rest of us."

"I never apologized." His voice cracks, and the tears break the dam, running down his cheeks openly. 

"I know. He knew though."

He doesn't move to her as much as he longed to be embraced. She didn't need that. "How'd you know?" He asks after a minute of choking out messy sobs. 

"That you loved him?" He nods, to shaken to form a response. "You looked at him the same way I did at our wedding." She shrugs. "Besides, why would you chicken out of seeing him so many times otherwise." 

He nods, folding his arms over his chest. He doesn't look up at her, but the tears run out eventually. He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"The world needs protection, and I'm not saying it has to be you, but you know it needs to be done. Whatever you choose, I'm sure it will be right." 

"Thank you." His voice is shaky, but he raises his chin to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry." 

"The others will be arriving soon, Steve." He nods once, and she squeezes his arm before going back inside. Steve looks through the screen door, and he walks back into the house. He had never felt so small and weak, but somehow, he felt like maybe he wasn't making the wrong choice. 

Thor smiles up at him when he walks in, looking for all the world like a teddy bear instead of a god king. "Greetings, Steve. Are you feeling better?" 

"Yeah, thanks." 

Sure enough, the rest of the Avengers gather shortly, including some intergalactic visitors. And.. two teenagers. One of them must be spider man, the other... Steve has no clue. Pepper picks up the wreath of flowers and Tony's first Ark reactor. The people inside follow her out and to the water. Steve stands alone, watching the wreath drift away. Presumably, his mind should be racing, but he can't find a word other then Tony that truly explains his emotions. Tony Tony Tony, his mind chants. But Tony wasn't going to answer. The rest of the day passes by in a blur of faces, hugs, and tears. Until Bruce comes up to him, his eyes red. "Hey Steve. We've still got one more mission left." 

"What?" He was tired; so tired. 

"I need you to return the stones and the hammer. Hank Pym and I are already working on the machine and the particles." He sets a hand on Steve's shoulder, dwarfing him easily. "We should be ready in three days.. maybe four." 

"I'll be ready." Steve's answer is easy, but his mind is racing before he can even get the words out. That's how he could leave. He could go somewhere his mistakes could never catch up with him. Better yet—he could fix his mistakes. Bucky—Peggy—Tony—he could even say goodbye to Nat. 

"I'm sorry to ask you." 

"I'm glad to do it." Steve rubs his arm. "You can count on me, Bruce," he says, smiling a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

Instead of trying to say anything (there was nothing to be said), Bruce nods. "Thanks Steve." 

They talk about the weather and how Bruce only recognizes one of the teenagers—a Stark Industries intern. Then Bruce goes to talk to Clint and Steve finds himself face to face with Pepper. She's holding a glass of champagne with a lipstick stain circling it. "Steve." 

"Pepper. Thank you. For everything." 

She tilts her head at him, raising her brow in a way that almost reminds him of Tony. "You're welcome?" 

"If you ever need help, I'll be more then willing." He was planning on coming back once he could, so it wasn't an empty promise. Really though, he was a relatively capable guy and would be ready to help her with anything she asked for when he came back. 

"I know you are." She pats his shoulder and sidesteps, continuing her walk towards Morgan and Happy. 

Two days later, Bucky comes knocking. Naturally, Steve opens the door, allowing him entrance. Without saying a word, Bucky enters and sits down on Steve's couch. "Hey Buck..."

"You're going to leave, aren't you." He looks up at Steve, tears welling begins his blue eyes. 

Steve's jaw goes a bit slack. He hadn't told a soul about his plans, but of course Bucky could tell. "I— I'm sorry," he says, looking away. He was sorry. It didn't change the facts. He could never make himself move on fast enough to help the world, and Pepper was right, it needed him now. He needed to go away for a while.. maybe right a few of his wrongs, then he could come back. 

"I know it's been five years your time, but it's not fair to me. Or Sam." The look in his eyes hardens slightly as tears slip silently from the corners. 

"I'm sorry Buck, I can't.. I'm not what you need." Steve sits next to him, neither facing each other. "I have to go." His mind reminds him of the look on Peppers face when she told him the world needed him to be strong. She was right. 

"You're an asshole." He stands up, clenching both fists. "Don't forget to say goodbye," he spits out over his shoulder. He's gone before Steve can formulate a proper response. Sure, he knew it would be hard on Bucky, but it would be better for him. Better for everyone in the long run. Steve couldn't go on like this, he spent five years trying to pretend he was fine, but he was over the edge now. He wasn't fine, and the only one who could understand was Pepper, but she didn't want to deal with his grief and her own and Morgan's. Nat had gotten him through five years of hell, but she was gone now. Steve couldn't do it. It would be hard, sure, but leaving would be easier, like ripping off a bandaid. 

It was better. 

One and a half days later, Steve stands on the Stark's property, staring at the five stones, sitting arranged in a case. Under his suit, there were two letters tucked against his chest, almost heavier then the stones in front of him. Bucky and Sam were there, but Bucky wasn't meeting his eyes. They hadn't spoke since Bucky had walked out, and they probably wouldn't speak for a long time from now, the way around Steve was going. Bruce finishes saying something about not being able to bring Natasha back (Steve's hardly listening, he's too jittery). "I miss her, man." 

"Me too." With any luck, he would be seeing her soon enough. Steve walks towards the machine. 

"I can come with you, if you want," Sam offers, walking next to him. 

"You're a good man, Sam, this one is on me though." Sam nods and falls back as he walks up to Bucky, a sad smile on his face. Bucky looks up to meet his eyes, practically glaring. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back."

"How can I. You're taking all the stupid with you," his voice is cold, but he doesn't resist when Steve pulls him in for a hug. "I'm gonna miss ya, Buddy." 

Steve pats Bucky's shoulders, they pull apart, but his eyes continue to speak volumes more then anything else ever could. Of course he would miss Bucky, with every fiber in his being, but that was the very problem. He had to go somewhere his actions wouldn't catch up with him. He had to. He had regrets that leaving wouldn't solve too, sure, like the fact that he never told Bucky he liked boys, or Tony that he fancied him. "It's gonna be okay, Buck," he settles on, drawing a faint smile. Then Steve pulls away, finality in his steps as he walks up into the machine, activating the time travel suit. 

"How long's this gonna take?" He hears Sam ask.

"For him, as long as he needs; for us, five seconds." He liked that notion, it would be as long as he needed. He could stay as long as he needed. He turns and hefts the hammer up into his hands, evening the weight out. "Ready Cap?" Steve nods. "Alright, we'll meet you back here, ok?" 

"You bet." Steve knew he was lying, and judging off the look in Bucky's eyes, he knew the same thing. The helmet folds over his face. 

"Going quantum in three..two..one." The machine beeps to life, glowing around him, then he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there. I’ve been writing this work and a spin off of this work for almost a year now, and I’m really excited to begin posting it. I hope you all will enjoy this while you’re locked in quarantine (or not, hello future readers). This is hopefully the first of many works I will be posting that take place in the universes that Steve impacts on his travels in this work, so I also implore you to look at those once I begin publishing them. I will most likely be posting every Friday, so stay tuned for more!


	2. Hold on to the Memories, They Will Hold on to You

His body is being pulled apart, his life rewritten and his very coding roped apart until he is no more then a fleeting thought in an endless tunnel of color. All at once, he is thrust back into the real world, a location he's never visited, but one he can recognize well enough. Vormir: 2014. He had missed Clint by no time at all, because he couldn't see any sort of universe altering time implosion. The time suit folds away to the containment device, and he walks forward, each step holding the weight of a thousand suns. By process of elimination, it was easy to tell where he must go; that foreboding mountain jutting into the sky seemed like a good bet. This was where Nat fell to her death. This purple-sky hellscape was where his best friend for the past five years had sacrificed her life and her chance at a happy ending for the fate of the universe. 

Dusty rocks crunch under his feet as he walks steadily closer to the top. The nature of her sacrifice could never be recognized by the general population, neither could Tony's. Nobody could ever know that the problem of time travel had been solved. Governments would be vying for the power the second it was announced, and with Tony gone, there was nobody to do damage control and legal work. Nobody who didn't work directly for a government organization. According to public knowledge, Nat and Tony died in the final battle, a heroes death, but not a selfless sacrifice. Not as it was. 

They had families. They were Steve's family. Then again, he's never been good at dealing with grief. He dealt with the loss of his dad by enlisting in the military more times then what was considered legal. After Bucky fell, he had crashed a plane into the frigid waves of the arctic. Now that Tony and Nat we're gone, he had fled to the past. When his mother had died, he had hurled himself into a series of pointless fights he could never win with people who would never loose against a scrawny asthmatic punk like him. Until finally, Bucky grabbed him by the shirt and told him something he would never forget. "Your ma wouldn't wancha fightin all these wankers who don' deserve it, ya punk." That of course was true. 

"And what're you gonna do bout it?" He had challenges back, trying to wrestle out of Bucky's grip. 

"Nothin. She just wouldn't like it." After that he had only gotten into fights with people who really deserved it. 

They had been childhood friends, inseparable, even when Steve's ma lost the house and they had to move. Every morning, Steve would be up at four to walk the five miles to Bucky's school. When he was lucky, Ms. Barnes would pick him up with a smile spreading across her rosy cheeks and her hair impeccably curled. "Hey sugar," she greeted him. 

"Hi ma'am. Thanks for the ride." Something about the novelty of the car (they had lost theirs shortly after the house) and the perfection of the woman had always turned him into a respectable boy. 

"No problem, Stevie, doll." She was the most beautiful woman Steve knew, her hair the color of dark chocolate, and eyes the same bright blue as Bucky's. Their whole family was pretty in every sense of the word, although Becca and Mr. Barnes were somewhat more subdued. "How's school goin?" 

"Very well, ma'am." And very well it went indeed. He graduated third in his class. Unfortunately, college wasn't cheap enough for a kid living unstably just above the poverty line. Instead, in the middle of the depression, he began to paint. The federal government was paying artists and authors to produce their goods, and as he couldn't exactly get a job in construction, he was left to that. By then, he was saving up to buy a nicer flat for his mom and him. It so turned out that he was good at art—at least, good enough to get by. In the 21st century, he had seen one of his paintings from the time, a look over the New York water, the Statue of Liberty towering over it. There was a boat moored at Ellis isle, and a few immigrants piled off. He remembered that painting, Bucky had been siting next to him while he painted it, licking a cone of strawberry ice cream. He also remembered that he had sold it for almost 40 dollars. Now it was priced at well over three million. It was good, but not that good. The name attached to it was worth that money, not the art. He had asked Tony to buy it and donate it to a veterans relief organization Tony had done so, which was the first markable point in time that Steve realized that he really liked Tony. Because of course, ever the overachiever, Tony had bought every Steve Rogers for sale, and donated it. Just like that. It meant little to Tony in the long run, he wouldn't even miss the money, but to Steve it meant the world. To the vets that got all that money, it meant paid medical bills and meals on the table. The seemingly simple gesture had inspired Steve to start painting again. 

His new paintings hadn't sold for that much, but they had been worth a lot of money, all donated, of course. Steve didn't need the money, he lived in an all expenses paid SHIELD apartment in Washington DC. Then he found Bucky. For the first time, he kept one of his paintings, a red and black piece of the winter soldier contrasted with a blue and white piece of the man frozen in time. Those had been shipped to Stark Tower with the fall of SHIELD, where Tony was given instructions to store them in a safe place. 

He had never asked for them back; never even thought to. As far as he cared they were locked in a chest at the bottom of the sea. 

As he grows nearer to the top, his thoughts turn to Nat, a bit guilty that he hadn't been thinking of her this whole time. She had never asked why he went to see Tony so often, only to return not an hour later. She had held him up when he cried, and he had returned the favor. With Clint gone, Thor loosing it, and Tony building a life, they had been all that was left of the original Avengers. All that was left to protect earth and guide it through the turmoil of the times. 

One time, long before the snap, before the takedown of SHIELD even, they had gone to one of Stark's galas together. It was sorta a fun thing, sorta a mission. Fury had gotten intel that some enemy agents would be there to get some SI plans. Steve hadn't wanted to go, and he hadn't been told she would be there, but he did and she was. She had looked stunning, dressed in all red from to the clips holding her hair up and the hoops in her ears down to her pumps. The long dress had shown off her body nicely, with a slit high enough to provide her a full range of motion if the need arose. Perhaps the monochromatic look would've been terrible on anyone else, but she had somehow pulled it off. "Hey there grandpa," she said with her signature smirk on her red lips. 

"Agent Romanoff." He greets, nodding civilly, trying to not let his eyes wander from her face. Not even he could deny, she looked amazing. She was amazing. 

"Please, Steve, were not strangers here." She slips her arm through his, leading him towards the doors. 

"Natasha. Fury didn't mention you would be here." His words are quiet and said through a brilliant press smile he had perfected in the 40's. 

She shrugs, hardly acknowledging the paparazzi flashing around them. "Fury doesn't see it necessary to mention a lot of things. Now, are we going to talk about work the whole time?" 

"I suppose not.. how have you been." 

"You mean since we saved the world? Pretty well actually. I took a vacation for the first time in a decade. Fiji is nice." They make it through the doors into the large hall, filled with people who have more money then Steve could imagine. "Sweetheart, if you think of yourself as a fish out of water, you're going to be one." She plucks two glasses of champagne off a tray being carried by and hands him one.

"I can't get drunk," he says staring blankly at the drink in his hand. 

Her laugh is quiet like a secret that he longs to hear. "That's not the point, Steve. I know it's been 70 years, but you must understand that you have to fit in at these things."

"I guess—" 

"When I heard that Captain America and Black Widow were at my gala, I must say, I didn't quite believe it. What gives? Are we gettin the band back together?" Stark's voice interrupts him, and they both turn, Natashas face lighting up with a smile. 

"Tony, sweetheart, it's so good to see you again." 

"Natasha," he greets, his face lighting up with a matching smile as she leans in to give him a warm hug. If Steve were only slightly less attuned, he wouldn't have noticed the slight moving of her lips or the ever so subtle crease of his brows that was gone in half a second. This was an exchange from two friends, sure, but more exactly, two people remarkably accustomed to this kind of secret interaction in the middle of public eye. "How was Fiji, darling?" 

She pulls back away, setting a fleeting hand on Steve's arm. "It was wonderful, great beaches. Thanks for lending me your beach house." 

"Any time." Both of their voices were velvety smooth, like dark chocolate. In another life, Stark would've made an amazing spy. "Capsicle. Get up to any grand adventures since last time we met?" 

It feels so strange to have all that grandeur focused on him, but also it seems right. "Oh you know, a few missions here and there." Truth be told, he had been working nearly nonstop. Fury's style of secretive leadership seemed to serve exclusively to tick him off. 

"Of course you've been working hard. Well, I've must be off, but if Clint, Bruce, and Thor show their ugly mugs, I'm afraid we'll just have to preemptively evacuate New York." 

"Bye, Tony, dear," Nat says, patting his hand with her own. He gives a little bow, then is off to some sort of business, whatever that means for him. "You're too stiff, darling." She takes a sip of her champagne. He follows suit. 

"Sore muscles," he offers as a lame excuse, but she takes it, even though he knows she knows that his muscles wouldn't get sore. She was kind in her own way. 

But that was all gone now. He was alone—save for Bucky and Sam, but they were strangers now. She was his everything, his closest friend, his sole confident. Sure, he had held group sessions for people to talk about their losses, but he never once mentioned Bucky, Sam, and Wanda. They were too fresh in his mind, an open wound even now. He still missed Peggy, but she had lived a life. That had been easier to talk about. He lost so much, but he always had Nat right by his side. He wished they could've traded places. He would give anything for her to be okay. He loved Tony, but he loved Nat too. The ever looming cloud of swirling purple glares down at him as the rocky terrain grows more solid. His boots don't crunch anymore, and his hair blows in the ever present wind. 

The hammer in his hand seems to crackle with energy as he grows nearer to the peak, the feeling of heavy electrified metal grounding him to reality. Since the moment he lifted it, he had doubted his worthiness. He had almost killed the man he loved. He was a liar, a killer, a traitor. He had led his friends to treason punishable by underwater super max prison, and they had followed because they thought he was a good man. He had no regard for his personal safety, would always throw himself on the blade of the knife, with no regard to what it did to those around him. He had tried to kill himself after loosing Bucky, but instead he found himself lost from his life seventy years later. For whatever reason though, the hammer decided he was worthy. Maybe he was. 

In the end, it didn't matter, because his whole life led him to right here. One mission to expel the six most dangerous objects in the universe from his own reality and save four others. Two dead friends. Ten chances to begin again. 

"Steve Rogers. I must say, I never expected to meet again." The voice belongs to a creature Steve had never expected to meet again. Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull. The head of HYDRA that got away. 

Steve jumps into a defensive position, holding the hammer up in defense. "What are you doing here?" 

"I was sent here to defend the soul stone, which I can never possess myself. Well.. could never possess myself. It looks like you have brought it here for me."

Steve holds up the hammer, and without a second thought, sends a bolt of vibrant lightning straight into his chest. "It's not for you, cocksucker." His voice is monotonous, as if he's reading an excerpt from a particularly boring news article. 

The red skull crashes against a boulder, the breath knocked from his lungs. "I see—ha—you have delved into legend. Well, as have I." He thrusts our a hand, and a column of golden-orange light flies out of it, arcing straight for Steve. He sees himself fall to his knees, and vaguely feels the dull sensation of hitting rock. More important in his mind though, was the feeling that his chest was being crushed. He couldn't breathe, couldn't rise. "Elongated exposure to the soul vortex... well, it has had interesting effects on my capacities." Steve chokes on his tongue, the feeling of it heavy in his mouth. The edges of his vision tint black. With the final shred of his strength, he sends a shooting bolt of lightning towards the red skull. It knocks him away, and all at once he gasps for breath and sends electricity coursing through the Skull's body. 

"You'll never get the stones." They launch into what feels like never ending combat. Given the complete equality of their matching, Steve found it quite difficult to get any sort of upper hand. Gold wraps around his heart and the Skull's face is charred with lightning. Physically they were matched, powerfully they were matched. Steve found himself desperate to prevail, hurling himself into risky moves that would be ill advised in the situation at hand, but he can't help it. In his hands, there is the resting weight of two handles he can't let go of. One he is trying to protect, the other he is using to protect it. Both... he feels both pulsing with a near violent ferocity. He spares a glance down to see the case glowing a vibrant orange light. The next moment his breath is knocked from his chest as he is thrown up into the air, over a mound of rocks, and to the unforgiving rocks below. When his body lands, both of his hands are empty, and many of his bones are broken—maybe even shattered. He groans, stretching his hand out to feel the crackling electricity of the hammer answering his summon, a now familiar weight by his side. He inhales shakily, kneeling up and crawling to the case. It's dented, and one of the clasps is undone, but still in one piece. A pair of boots lands between his fingers and the handle only seconds before he can grab it. No. "A valiant attempt, Captain but—"

He uses his last strength to send electricity through his body and into the Skull's chest. He is thrown back a few hundred feet, his limp body crushing against a rock. "Man, fuck you," Steve grumbles, crawling the last inch to reach the case. At his touch, the second clasp opens to reveal a near blinding orange flash. He squeezes his eyes closed until it had died down to reveal the stone in his palm. Whatever, this may as well be happening. Power rushes through him, and he rises. He can feel everything, can feel the way his atoms are essentially the same as everything around him—everything that ever was and ever will be. He can feel every place where his bones were broken.. correction, used to be broken. 

"No. No!" The Red Skull lunges towards him, but Steve raises a hand, and the Skull is gone, a flurry of red and black there, then gone, absorbed into the soul stone. His skin crackles with power. In this moment, he could do anything. Bring down civilizations with a swift movement, or.. was that? 

Inside the stone, he can feel the raging spirit of the Skull, who he could bring back with no effort at all.. but below that... below that was a quieter presence. Natasha. He tries to pull her from the stone, but she remains firmly on the other side of the soul realm. "Nat," he says, looking down at the stone, and the orange light wrapped tightly around his hand. "How. Please," he begs with the stone, falling to his knees. 

_A soul for a soul ___

__He hadn't expected an answer, and he certainly hadn't expected such a clear one. A voice—not female, not male, not young, not old—had spoken directly into his mind, as if the words had always been there, laying in wait. He stumbles to his feet, continuing his track to the peak of the mountain. The case, he takes in his other hand, closing it firmly. When he reaches the peak, he does not hesitate to hurl the Stone away, as far as he can. He would never see it again, and that was fine. "Natasha. Natasha, give me Natasha, please," he folds his hands, staring up at the violent purple vortex. It pulses with energy, pure, blinding white, and he wakes up in a pool of water, one hand wrapped around the case, the other around a hand. Slim fingers twitch against his and he scrambles to his knees, feeling tears swell in his eyes. "Nat."_ _

__She opens her eyes and blinks up at him. "Rogers." Her voice is soft, and her teary eyes match his. She lunges up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he lets himself start to sob, clutching to her body. "I didn't think I was coming back."_ _

__"I lost you," he whispers, squeezing her. His tears splash down into the pool of water, sending ripples pooling around them._ _

__"I'm right here, ya big oaf." But she's crying too and clutching to him with the same desperate ferocity. "I love you. I'm so sorry."_ _

__"I love you too. God Nat."_ _

__They stay like that for far longer then either of them would care to admit, both of them desperate to hold each other. He feels her heartbeat thundering beneath his fingertips, proof that she was alive and here. Never again would he abandon her. He would trade the soul stone for her any day. Steve can't help but to wonder if Thanos had even considered the possibility of returning the soul stone for his daughter before destroying it. That was the difference between them though; Steve loved Natasha more then the power the soul stone had to offer. He had never wanted it in the first place, only to undo the hell they had been through. Thanos was a fucking idiot. Nat lets out a messy giggle, bringing him from his thoughts, her fingers tightening against his back. "Fuck Steve. We should go."_ _

__"I—I still have to return the rest of the stones."_ _

__"Yeah, I know. I'll come with you." She says it like it's obvious, like there was no other solution._ _

__"No.. Nat you should go back. They'll be waiting." They would all be so happy to see her too. Even if he never came back, she would be enough to make up for it. She was so close to everyone, even Tony, though she had betrayed him too. Suppose that's what happens when you actually go to talk to someone every now and then. They forgive you. Although there was no Tony to return to now. But Bruce, Clint, Thor, Carol, Bucky, Sam... they would all be so happy to see her._ _

__She shakes her head. "I know you're not planning to go back. I want to stay with you."_ _

__"But you—"_ _

__"No. You're my family too, Steve. I don't want you to be alone. It's just you and me, right?" That was enough. You and me. Him and her. Steve and Natasha._ _

__Steve wants to turn her down, to male her go back. He should, that was the right thing to do. To send her back to their friends instead of him. She would know exactly how to proceed, she was a leader, and a damn good one. But Steve was selfish. Their friends would be none the wiser if he took her for a while. They were family. He needed her, as much as he wanted to need nothing. "Okay. Thank you."_ _

__She rises to her feet and he follows suit, both of them dripping with water and cold to the bones, but happier then they had ever been. "Where to next, Captain?" Her nano suit forms around her, but her face remains free, her braid blowing in the breeze._ _

__"I was thinking the 70's. You never got the chance to meet Howard, did you?" His own suit forms around him, a hard shell to protect his body from the dangers of fucking with time. Well, fuck it. These were already alternate time streams, he could at least try and make them better, right? He raises a hand, the hammer flying towards him off the mountain._ _

__"Stark? Not in person." He dials the exact coordinates into the locator, then follows suit for hers._ _

__"He's an interesting guy. Kinda an asshole."_ _

__"I know, I heard Tony's stories." Her helmet forms around her head. "This'll be fun."_ _

__He forms his own, smiling at her. "Let's go then Agent Romanoff."_ _

__"Lead the way Captain Rogers."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! And we’re back in business baby. Do I think that Marvel will actually bring her back? No, they’re cowards. But, I think that if there is a way, that this makes more sense then anything else. Ok, thank you, have a great day!


	3. How strange the I don’t know you at all

They land a little less then a mile from the base, it's metal gates imposing on them. He knows that Tony—his Tony was just here. But that wasn't his mission. He.. couldn't. "Now what?" Her voice is gentle, like she knows, although he hadn't explicitly said that Tony was gone. 

"Well, Howard should be driving down this road in a minute." He pops the case open, lifting the shining blue space stone into his palm. It twinkles at him in the bright sunlight, as if it were just some pretty rock.

"So we wait." 

"We wait." He looks over at her. She doesn't quite seem apprehensive, but just a hair out of place, like she doesn't belong here and she knows it. 

Her hair remains still in the light breeze, and it isn't until then that Steve considers that maybe she isn't quite natural anymore. Sure, he was smart, observational, quick even. It didn't stop him from missing obvious things every now and then. Tony would've thought of it the moment she was back, he would already have a plan of what to do. Steve wasn't dumb, not by any measure, he spent so much time slowing his movements down so he didn't freak people out that sometimes he forgot that he could go faster. He could think faster, move faster. He's been told it's terrifying. Maybe... if there's something wrong with Nat, he can help her become accustomed to slowing down and fitting in. Seems like just yesterday she was teaching him the same thing. 

After nearly five minutes of silent waiting, Howard's car drives by, stops, and backs up. He rolls the window down, staring at him incredulously over the rims of his glasses. "Rogers?" 

"Stark."

"Bullshit." 

"Nope." 

"You're dead."

"I'm not." 

"I have an alert set up if they find you."

"For fucks sake Howard, it's me." 

He squints, then averts his gaze to Natasha. "It can't be you, Rogers. I wish it was." 

"I have this—" he feels a jolt of electricity pass through his body, and sees Nat convulsing similarly out of the corner of his eye. God damn it. 

He wakes up with a heavy headache in a cell. In the cell next to him he can see Nat, still deep in a sleep, sprawled in a heap on the ground with her hair splayed around her head. He grabs the bars separating them with heavy arms. "Nat," he groans. 

"These stones are incredible. I've only seen these kinds of readings twice. So tell me. Where the hell did you get these?" Howard's voice rings out, inquisitive and hardly hostile in comparison to the steel bars around him. 

"What did you do to her," he growls, pulling himself to sit with his back against the bars.

"She'll be fine. The question, is who are you?" Howard twirls on him, flipping up a pair of goggles. He was much less handsome then he had been, but he supposes that thats what happens with time. 

"I already fucking told you. I'm Steve Rogers. Captain America." 

"Your DNA certainly does read that way." 

If you took everything that sometimes ticked him off about Tony and made it into a person, he's pretty fucking sure it would be Howard. "You can't take people's DNA."

"What did you think fondue meant when we met." 

"Sex, Howard. When you gave me the penicillin, I thought it was the serum. After Bucky died, I tried to get drunk, but I couldn't. I made plans to go dancing with Peggy right before I died. When I found the vibranium shield, I asked why it wasn't standard issue. Peggy shot at me. It's me." Steve leans forward, his muscles groaning in protest. "What the hell did you shoot me with?"

To Howard's credit he only looks mildly fazed. "Taser gun. So.. you're really Steve?" Steve nods. "Then how are you here?" 

He sighs, a small smile on his face as he looks down. "That's a long story. Basically, they found me in 2011. In 2023, your son invented time travel so we could save the universe. Now I'm here to return what we borrowed from time. The blue stone used to be the teseract, it's for you."

"My... son?"

"Maria is pregnant right now, isn't she?"

"Yes, very. You're telling me... my god." He stumbles backward into a chair, running his hand over his face. "2023... shit. And who's she?" 

"Natasha Romanoff. You wouldn't know her." 

He nods his head slowly. "Okay." He picks you the space stone carefully, turning it over in his palm. "Aren't you tampering with the time space continuum right now?"

Ok, so... maybe he was. Whatever, in this new timeline, these would always be the events that occurred. Luckily he didn't have to worry about nasty paradoxes and whatnot according to Bruce (who he trusted more then Howard, actually). "It's fine Howard. Can you let me out of this fucking cage." 

"You swear almost as much as Maria," he chastises, getting up to unlock the door. Steve hadn't ever met Maria, but given everything Tony had ever casually mentioned, she hadn't struck him as the kind to swear. She had sounded like the perfect housewife everyone in that century had longed for. She had established several funds for artistic societies though, so what he had gleaned from that period of history, it's very possible she had been part of the beats movement in the 50's. Who knows, maybe he'll meet her. 

"Get hers too." He rises up to his feet, steadier now that he's been awake for a while. 

Howard opens the other door, and Steve steps out of his and into hers, picking her up off the floor. The last time he had had to carry her, she had been inches from death on a mission gone far too wrong. Fury had sent him in to extract her and Clint; Clint has been conscious enough to walk, but in no state to carry his partner, bleeding out on the prison floor by the time Steve arrived. If he had arrived minutes later, she would've been dead, no matter how much Clint mustered himself to do. The situation had made so much more sense after the fall of SHEILD; the two of them had been sent directly into an ambush where they had been pushed to the brink of death and locked in a cage not unlike animals. Steve had only been sent to check if they were okay because Fury was a paranoid bastard and expected nothing less than constant updates. He couldn't complain much though, Clint and Nat were alive today because of it. 

Luckily they had been in one of Tony's quinjets, or they wouldn't have made it to the hospital in time. She had woken up while Clint was still knocked out on anesthesia (her surgery had been performed with precedence). Steve had been out of the room, but Clint later told him that he had woken up to beautiful Russian singing. 

Her chest rises and falls as he carries her to the couch in the corner of the room, a coffee table covered with shit in front of it. 

As he's about to walk away, she lets out a whimper of pain, turning over. "Stark, do you know any Russian songs." Steve asks quietly, rubbing her arm. 

"Um. No? Is she Russian?"

Steve fixes him with an exasperated look. "She's not a communist. The Soviet Union is long gone in the future." 

"Wonderful." He rambles something about how he always knew that communism would never be able to survive. 

Bucky would know a Russian song. Steve had taken the time to learn a little Russian, but that was a long time ago. Before the Sokovia Accords. Tony had looked at him like he had grown another head when he asked for a Russian teacher, then directed him to a website called Duolingo. He tried, but he had never been able to get through much with the frequency required for him to save the planet. 

He sets a hand on her arm, shaking her slightly. She jolts up at him in a flash, a blade pressed to his throat before he can blink. The scariest thing wasn't where she got the knife so fast, or how quick she had woken, or even the knife pressing into his throat. It was her eyes, glowing an angry orange light out at him. In a flash she is back to normal, slumping against the back of the couch, the knife laying on the couch next to her. "Sorry, sorry."

"Nat—"

"Do people do that in the future?" Howard asks, peering at her over his shoulder. 

"Get away from me, Stark," she growls, and to Howard's credit, he does. 

"Sorry about zapping you."

"Whatever." She looks at Steve, her eyes reverted unmistakable to their normal color. 

Should he.. no. That would just make her panic, and then Howard would lock her up and study her. They had things to do. He would tell her... later. Later. "Howard, can you.. can you keep the stones safe for a while."

"What?" Nat asks him. "Steve that's—"

"Were going to go find Bucky." Her mouth snaps shut. 

Behind him, Howard shifts. "Um, cap, I don't know if you... remember, but Barnes is long gone."

"I know that. But you never found his body. He's still alive."

"Steve—" Nat starts.

"I know. But I owe it to him. I read the files, I know where he should be soon. Even if you won't help me, I have to."

"I will." She holds out her hand.

He takes it, pulling her to her feet. Her fingerless gloved hand lingers in his as they stand chest to chest. "Thank you." He turns to Howard. "I want to know that we can trust you." 

"You can always trust me cap. I hope you know what you're doing, and that whatever it is, I'm behind you." 

"Good, because I also have something to ask of you. I'm out there too, somewhere. I crashed the plane into a field of arctic ice that shifts around all the time, but I'm out there. I need you to find me; Bucky's going to need me." 

He nods. "I'll increase efforts by 50%. We'll find you Steve." 

"Thank you." 

Nat leans down to grab her knife off the couch, tucking it away into a fold in her sleeve in such a way that if he weren't focused on the movement, it would look like it just disappeared. "This stays between us, Stark. I know that you're going to research the stones, but you can't publish any findings until we're gone. Preferably not ever," she says, freezing him in place with a glare. 

"Don't worry doll, I can practice discretion. I assume that means you're not going to want to stick around and meet Maria?" He turns away, walking back towards where he had been working. 

Steve and Natasha lock eyes. She shrugs. "Maybe," Steve says. "We could come around for dinner once." 

"Sure, but she's on bed rest right now, so dinner will have to wait." He turns back towards them. "Anything I should know about these?" He points to the stones, laying in their open case. 

"The fabric of reality rests on us returning them, so don't loose any. And don't touch them." 

"I keep the blue one though, right?" 

"Yeah, that's yours." 

"Do you want to see Peggy? She's busy, but I'm sure she'll make time for you." His voice is tender at that, because of course he knows exactly how much he missed her. How much he hopes she misses him. 

"Yeah." He hears the tenderness in his own voice, but doesn't care much. "Invite her for dinner." 

"Will do." Howard presses his palms together, turning to face them. "Just so you know, you have my full power backing you in whatever you need, so don't hesitate to ask. We're in one of the secret labs under my New York mansion right now, so the government doesn't know you're here, unless they found you out while you were stealing the tesseract, although I think they would've called me in on that. I can get you out of here in secret, or you can walk right out the front doors, or you can stay for a while and get your things together to find Barnes. Now, I have to head upstairs, because Maria might kill me if I'm not with her any longer, but you're welcome to stay down here, or in our quest room. I'm afraid she won't want to see you until after the baby is out, she's a little bloated." 

"We can't thank you enough, Howard. It sounds like you need to get to your wife, though, so don't let us keep you." Steve says. 

"Right." He closes the stones back into their case. "I'll show you up to the the guest rooms, I guess." 

"Yeah." Steve gives Natasha a telling look and a small shrug. Her eyes conveyed a similar message: the sooner Howard was out of their hair, the sooner they could start. 

Natasha follows him towards the elevator first, and Steve would be a damn liar if he didn't enjoy the sight of Howard squirming a bit. They all slide into the elevator, and it goes up two floors, opening into a library. As soon as they're all out, Howard fiddles with a large green book with his hand, and a book case slides closed over the elevator. "There you have it. Jarvis! Can you show our guests to a room!" 

A tall, put together man appears, presumably the same Jarvis that had been driving the car and the namesake for Tony's first AI. "So these people..." Jarvis trails off, handing Howard a slip of paper. 

"The real deal. Whoopsie." Howard shoots them an apologetic smile as he tucks it into his pocket. 

"Indeed sir. Lovely to meet you properly, Captain Rogers." He holds out a hand for Steve to take. 

Steve suppresses a laugh at Jarvis's subtle quip at Howard. "You too. This is Natasha Romanoff." 

"Ms. Romanoff," Jarvis says, shaking her hand. 

She gives him a look that Steve is sure only he recognizes as kind. "Mr. Jarvis." 

"Well Howard needs to get going. I'll be back to collect you two in a moment." He steers Howard towards the door to leave the room, then in a quieter voice adds: "And I believe you have much to catch me up on, Mr. Stark." 

"Bye!" Howard says, waving to them over his shoulder. "You would not believe, Jarvis. This puts our adventures to shame." 

Steve laughs as soon as they're gone, and Natasha quickly follows suit. "From all Tony's stories, I woulda thought him a dead beat," Nat says, once she catches her breath. 

"From what I understand of Tony before Afghanistan, they were pretty similar. I'm just glad that whatever changed in Howard while he was being a parent didn't change in Tony for Morgan." Steve crosses his arms, half a smile still plastered on his face, but a flicker of genuine sorrow taking his words. It's not that he didn't like Howard, he did, but he also knew very well that the Howard he had known was very different from the Howard Tony had grown up with. 

"Tony was a real jackass back then. We met once in '03. I was 19, fresh out of the red room. I was there to take out some guy feeding information to a rival organization. Ran into him instead, he was absolutely off his rocker drunk, and adamant about getting me in bed. I left him knocked out in a men's restroom and took out the man I had been sent there for." She has her arms crossed over her chest, and a near wistful look on her face. Steve can't help but be held captive by the tale about two people he knows better then anyone else, yet both so opposite from how he knows them. It was also one of the only times he had heard a shred of a story from one of her KGB missions. "I'm just glad he didn't recognize me in '10, that woulda been a hell of a thing to explain." 

"Sounds like the Howard I knew. Did I ever tell you I thought Howard and Peggy were sleeping together?" The snort she replies with is enough to tell him that he had in fact, not told her about that. "It's true. They had been talking about stopping for fondue on the way back from dropping me off in enemy territory, and I was absolutely convinced that meant sex." 

"Aww, that's cute," she coos, patting his cheek. "Come on, I wanna drink some of his expensive liquor if we're going to continue this fun story time." 

"I can't get drunk."

"And what a shame that is, but I can. Come on cap." She tugs on his arm as she walks past, heading presumably towards where the kitchen might be. He follows diligently, with only a slight exasperation in his step. He was so happy to have her back that he probably would let her lead him right into a burning forest. Liquor was probably a safer bet then that, so he'd take it. 

"When I was doing research on Howard, you have no idea how surprised I was that he actually settled down and had a kid. I wasn't surprised to find all the stuff about Tony sleeping with anything that has a pulse."

"Not even the stuff about him sleeping with men?" She gives him a look out of the side of her eye, almost as if they're back on the helicarrier and ashes seizing him up.

"Surprisingly, I actually didn't find anything about that. Think Fury put a filter on my computer?" Steve bumps her hip with his and they enter the kitchen. She makes a direct line to the wall of liquor bottles and he jumps up onto the counter. 

"I wouldn't put it past him. He was pretty concerned about how your 40's sensibilities would mix with the 21st century." She pulls out two expensive looking bottles of vodka and jumps up onto the counter next to him, slipping into a crisscross position. 

Steve can't help but let out a laugh. "Clearly my 40's sensibility's coulda handled it." She pops both opens and pours one into the other. He watches her doing this, a confused silence falling over his face. "What.." 

"I'm Russian." 

As if that explains anything. Still, he can't help but take it as an acceptable answer and move on with his life. The reasons why Nat does what she does range from to confuse people to literally no reason to to kill people to for the aesthetic. He had known her long enough to just accept it. "So I know he killed JFK in '63, and the Starks in '91."

"Shot me in '09." 

"Right. Well, I looked at the list.. kinda a lot, so I have it down pat. Unfortunately, his next assassination isn't until September 7th, 1978, in London. Georgi Markov." 

She takes a long swing from the bottle. "That's a long time. We could try to find where they have him in cryo?" 

"My thoughts exactly. And, if all else fails, we know where to find him in a few years." 

Nat studies him for a moment, taking another long drink from her bottle. "Sure you won't get sick of me in the next 8 years?" 

"Sure you won't get sick of me? I am the one asking you to stay in the 70's for 8 years on a whim while the fate of multiple realities lies in the balance." Steve raises an eyebrow at her. It's not like he would regret the choice, but it was possible she would. This was what he plotted out as his mission to help make several realities become just that much better. 

"You know we could return the rest of the stones, then come back?" She says, knocking her foot against his leg. 

"Oh." The look she gives him is nearly enough to make him want to duck, just in case the bottle in her hand slips out of it.. and into his head. "Well, I suppose your right. Well have to see him later though, I'm not entirely sure how to get that elevator back open." He takes the mostly empty second bottle of vodka and takes an experimental sip of it, then immediately begins coughing. 

She laughs, clinking their bottles together. "Weak ass American." 

"It's Howard's alcohol!" He protests, despite his body trying to kill him. Seriously, what the fuck was in that shit.

She shrugs. "It could be Maria's." 

"It is." Jarvis says suddenly from the doorway. Both of them jump, and Steve can feel the near palpable shock radiating off of Natasha at the ability of the butler to sneak up on them. "You may keep it, I don't think she will want it. Please get off the counter." 

Steve slides off the counter, feeling more then a little ashamed that they were not only snuck up on, but also scolded. Nat on the other hand, has regained her cool composure. "Mr. Jarvis, I'm afraid, I have to ask, how much of that did you hear?" She takes a few steps forward, closing the vodka bottle. Steve leaves the other god awful one on the counter. 

"More then I probably should have. You weren't exactly quiet. So long as you can promise that Howard, Maria, and their son will come to no harm from whomever you are searching for by the time 1991 rolls around, I will keep quiet about all of it." He has his hands folded in front of his chest, and his voice is almost unconcerned by the world shaking information he just accidentally received. 

Steve and Nat make eye contact, and Steve, fiddles with his weapons belt. "That's what we're trying to do sir." 

Jarvis nods. "Very well. Please follow me." He walks crisply towards the grand staircase occupying much of the entryway. Natasha follows him, and Steve follows her. "If you're truly going to be staying for eight years, I believe Howard will be happy to rent you an apartment nearby." 

"That's great, thank you," Nat says. 

He leads them up the stairs and into a long hallway with several rooms off of it. The nearest door on the left side is apparently the one he had deemed fit for them, because he pulls the large doors open, allowing them entrance. Steve looks around the room, his eyes landing on the one bed in the center of the room. Before he can even think to ask for separate rooms, Nat has a hand on his upper arm. "Thank you so much, Mr. Jarvis. Any way we can help out, don't hesitate to ask." 

"That is very kind of you. Will we be seeing you for dinner?" 

"Oh, no we wouldn't want to impose." She flashes him a blinding smile. Steve still has a half a thought to ask for separate rooms, but quickly squashed that. Whatever Nat is playing at, he's sure she has her reasons. Besides, if it gets awkward, he can always sleep on the couch; it looks comfortable enough. 

Jarvis nods. "Very well. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask. I must be off now."

"Alright, thank you," Steve says, the door already closing on them. 

As soon as it's shut, Nat begins yanking armor off, piles of flexible metal and weapons appearing at her feet until she's left in her under suit. "I'm going to bed. I don't think my body has ever been this tired." 

Maybe it's just the fact that she died and came back to life today (or was that several years from now?), but the thought that that might be her having to adjust to the newness of whatever was going on under her skin does cross his mind. There was no telling what happened to her without extensive testing, and the only person he trusted to do that was dead. Or was he not born yet? Whatever. Time travel was confusing. "Goodnight Nat." 

She throws herself onto the bed, sinking into fluffy blankets. A thumbs up is her only signature to him before she's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a probably ridiculous amount of research to find the perfect assassination to credit to the Winter Soldier in a semi-convenient time frame for our protagonists before finding Georgi Markov's assassination. He was an anti-communist dissident and a writer who was shot at close range with a gun disguised as an umbrella. The bullet was a ricin filled pellet, a poison to which there was no known cure at the time. Nobody was ever directly linked to the assassination, but the KGB admitted to that assassination and a prior failed attempt on a different target in the same manner. You can look up the wiki page on it, it's actually pretty interesting.


	4. I can feel the flames on my skin, crimson red pain on my lips

Natasha stands across the room holding a glass of red wine. She's wearing a high necked, sequin covered black dress with an open back and sides, laces holding it up and obscenely massive silver hoop earrings. Somehow she's also managing to keep her balance in 5 inch torture devices. She looks at ease, smiling and laughing and talking in a luscious Russian accent; the opposite of how Steve felt. The heads of HYDRA mingle around them, all as immaculately put together as a puzzle. Steve sets his shoulders and saunters over to Natasha, a dangerous smile on his face. As soon as he's in reach she has a kiss planted on his cheek. "And I'm sure you've met my darling boyfriend, Ivan," she says to the older man she had apparently been conversing with. He has a young woman in a skin tight dress on his arm, and she looks fairly bored, but judging by the diamonds Steve doubted she would be bored enough to leave. 

"I'm afraid I haven't. It's so nice to see the future in capable hands, unlike that Malik boy. Especially with Zola.. busy fraternizing with the enemy." Steve feels his heart stop in his chest. All it would take... that's all it would take. Zola would walk in, and Steve would be shot.

"And.. how is he?" Steve asks, trying desperately to breathe like a normal person. 

The man shrugs. "He has been better. Between us, I suspect he is loosing his mind. How come you two haven't been around more." 

"Well, you see, we actually only procured invites to this event recently. We were undercover working for Howard Stark under the instruction of the late Gideon Malik," she makes a small frown, setting a gentle hand on his arm. 

The near predatory look he gives her was almost enough to make Steve snap as it is, if they were really dating, he might've just beaten the man to a pulp. "Gideon didn't mention that to and of us. Even in death he's finding ways to do whatever he wants. Still, I hope to be seeing more of you around. If he trusted you two that much, I do as well." 

Steve sets a hand on her waist, pulling her back. "We look forward to working with you." 

He drifts away, sparing Steve a momentary glare. The woman on his arm gives Steve a once over and a smile before following after the old man. Natasha pinches his hand hard and he winces. He already knows what it's about, but he's not that sorry. "Vanya, do you want to go find some food?"

"Of course, darling." 

7 months earlier: 

Maria tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully holding Tony in her arms. "So you're really Captain America?" She asks, rocking him back and forth a bit. 

"I'm sure Howard has told you, time travel can be a funny thing." Steve knows he should be looking at her while he speaks, but he can't take his eyes off Tony. He's only 5 pounds and swaddled in a blanket far larger then himself. He's tiny. And yet, Tony was going to grow up to be one of the smartest people on the planet. It's just one of those things that Steve knows. He thinks that even if he didn't, he would be able to tell that Tony was something else entirely. 

"Do you want to hold him?" Maria offers after a moment of eying him, taking a step closer to Steve. 

Then Howard and Mr. Jarvis burst in through the doors, a flurry of motion and energy. They're both laden with bags and bags of baby clothes or something. "Sweetheart, we're going to go unpack all this, do you want to lay down?" Howard asks, shifting all his bags to one hand and leaning over her shoulder to plant a kiss on her cheek and set a gentle hand on Tony. Steve didn't understand the difference between this man and Tony's stories about his dad. What happened? 

"I'm alright, Howard, I might sit down though." She smiles over at him. 

He takes a step back and nods. "Anything for the mother of my son." He smiles at Steve. "Hey Steve, good to see you up. Nat asleep?" 

"Working out. Congratulations, Howard." He hadn't seen them leave, but there had been a hastily scrawled note taped to the outside of his door when he woke up. 

Gone to hospital, Maria having contractions.

It was only a few weeks since their arrival, and honestly Steve hadn't been expecting it. He forgot exactly how much time had passed since his arrival in the past, but he hadn't been surprised. He hadn't seen Maria yet, but Howard has been complaining about her moods nearly every time he came downstairs. It was all good natured of course, because he would be back by her bedside as soon as he could be. She was quite beautiful, and Steve didn't think it had that much to do with the pregnancy glow thing. 

"Thanks Cap. C'mon Jarvis!" Howard heads up the stairs, lugging his bags of baby stuff. Jarvis nods to Steve and follows in a more dignified manner. 

Maria smiles after them, shaking her head. "I'm going to sit now, but you may feel free to join." 

"I've never really held a baby, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to," Steve cuts in, feeling a bit like an absolutely insane teenage girl. 

"It's okay, it's not hard, you just have to support the head." She steps closer to him, offering her newborn son to Steve. He takes Tony awkwardly, supporting his tiny head with a hand that looks too big to be doing something so gentle. Maria looks up at Steve once he has Tony situated to her liking. "Do you know him? In the future, I mean."

"Yeah. He's great. Really smart. He was an ass when we met, but... we both came around." Sort of. Then Steve left him alone and almost dead in the Siberian winter after lying to him for years about his parents deaths. 

She smiles. "That's good. Can you tell him I said hi?" 

Steve feels that like a punch to the gut. No, no he can't. Tony is dead. "I'll.. let him know." 

"I'm going to go sit down now." 

"Yes, right," Steve snaps back into action, following Maria as she walks into the living room and sits down in the armchair. Steve sits in the loveseat next to her. He fixes his gaze on Tony again, who was snoozing thankfully. Steve wonders if Tony will remember him—if he and Nat will be around long enough for him to form memories. "So.. not to pry, but I don't really know that much about you..." Steve says, looking up at Maria through his lashes. 

"Oh. Well, my name is Maria Stark. I'm an artist. I was born to wealthy Italian immigrants who fled Italy after Mussolini was kicked out. My mom taught me to cook. We haven't spoken since I started dating Howard; I think she wanted me to marry an Italian." She strokes Tony's cheek with a finger. "Keep the bloodline pure or whatever." 

"My parents were poor Irish immigrants. Looks like we're both second generation." 

She gives him a funny smile. "I guess we are. So you're 100% Irish?" 

"To be honest, I have no idea. In the future, they have these DNA tests, but I've never taken one because I'm afraid that they'll sell it to the highest bidder and someone will try to re make the serum." Tony shifts in his arms, and Steve tries not to cry. Here was his friend, his teammate, his love; dead, yet just now alive. 

"I think my parents would cry if they found out we weren't pure." Steve can almost taste the ire in that one word. The anger of a mother that someone could think her son wasn't perfect. 

If he were Maria's father, he would be shaking in his boots right now. "I've never met anyone who actually believes in purity of blood." 

"They'd have a field day with you. If you were Italian, I'm almost sure my mother would have you sniffed out as the perfect husband by now. She's uncanny." 

"I don't think anyone wants my actual genes. If I had kids, I honestly don't know if they'd pop out tiny and asthmatic or hopped up on baby serum." 

She giggles, setting a hand over her mouth. "So, no Ms. Rogers? I take it? "

"God, no. The closest I've gotten to marriage was kissing." Steve's mind flickers to Sharon and Natasha, the feeling of their lips on his. Neither kiss had meant what it should've to him. With Sharon.. well, she was a great gal, but she kissed him. And they were on the run, so Steve had taken it as a token of good luck and moved on. Nat's kiss had also been on the run, but well, he hadn't not liked that one. It wasn't really a kiss though, not for her and not for him. She was just trying to keep their cover and he... well by that point he was fully aware of his little crush on Tony. 

Maria smiles subtly. "Not even a date? I assumed you and Natasha were going out with the way Howard talked about you two." 

Steve feels his cheeks heat up. "N- no, I love Nat, but she's just a friend. It's just... been a while since I've seen her." 

She nods, but has a look on her face that makes it very clear that she doesn't understand what he means. Well, he wasn't a hundred percent sure either any more. It had only been a few days between her death and her resurrection, but it had felt like years. Thankfully it's that moment that Tony chooses to wake up, looking up at Steve with huge, inquisitive blue eyes. Then he begins to cry and Maria and Steve both seem to share the thought that Maria should have him. 

Steve tries not to take that personally, babies just cry. Still, there was a point where if adult Tony saw Steve he might've burst out crying too.

He and Natasha quickly drop the rest of the stones off in secure locations in their correct timelines shortly after that. They would easily be able to go to the exact time they left and put them where they were actually supposed to be, but it was better to get them out of the way for now. Howard was a bit sad to see them go, but he had hit a solid block in his research, all of which was very technical and confused the shit out of Steve. From what he could understand, the stones weren't compatible with each other, but had been forced together (presumably by Bruce, Tony, and Thanos, though Steve didn't say that). Other then that, they were all structurally unique and absolutely teeming with endless power. Steve hoped that returning the stones to their proper times would fix the incompatibility issue. After all, nothing was imploding yet. 

But of course, when was anything ever easy. 

"Steve?" Nat asks one night while lounging in a chair in front of a computer she hasn't touched in at least twenty minutes. 

"Hm?" He looks up at her from a newspaper article about Zola. 

She bites her lip, swiveling in her chair to face him. "I want to try to find my dad. My family. I have a name, that's it. Ivan Romanoff—" 

"Yes," he interrupts. "Of course." 

He's not hard to find. He's 21, and in the middle of the Russian government. His wife's name is Natalia, and she has stunning red hair. They're rich. Like, really rich. Unfortunately, that raises more questions then it answers. Why the hell did these two incredibly rich and influential people send their daughter to the red room? That creates a bit of a block in their path. See, although they were easy to find, they wouldn't be easy to get to. And it would be even harder to explain that they have a daughter. And that they're here from 2023. 

They are also at a bit of an impasse in their delve into HYDRA and the KGB. Theoretically, it wouldn't be hard to infiltrate either, if they could find the right people. The two organizations were also working together, according to what Steve could glean from current texts and his memory. Who really knows though, it's all just propaganda against communism. Besides, according to all of this, HYDRA was eradicated in the 1940's by Captain America and the Howling Commanders.

HYDRA didn't exist. 

Except that Steve knew, somewhere in SHIELD's facilities, Zola was working along to instil power through each and every branch of the United States government. 

Luckily, they had one connection. Gideon Malik, CEO of Gothite Industries at only 19. Steve only knew the name Malik in passing, he had seen it mentioned only once in the thousands upon thousands of HYDRA files he combed through after the fall of SHIELD. Who's to even say that he was involved with HYDRA yet. But, it was worth a shot. Luckily, Howard was able to procure all invitation to a stuffy banquet being held by one of Howard's connections that the 19 year old would also be attending. So they all went. Howard, Maria, Steve, Nat, and little baby Tony, only 4 months old and already on a secret mission to save the world.. or at least to save his parents. In an odd way, it felt almost like a family outing. Maria is bouncing Tony on her knee, such a sweet image in contrast to what they were here for. 

Howard steps out of the car first, holding the door open for Maria, who's bright yellow dress falls around her ankles when she steps out, holding Tony in his baby suit. Steve follows them, his hair dyed black and his beard grown out. Natasha steps out, taking his hand and pulling herself up. Steve collides the door, and she slips her arm through his. The pearls around her gloved wrist are cool on his hand. "Smile dear," She says, beaming at the paparazzi. Luckily, most of their attention was on the Starks. Still, if they recognized him... it was all up. It would be considered far to dangerous to remain in this reality and they would have to leave. 

So he forces a press smile onto his face, walking confidently up through the doors and into the large banquet hall. He lets his chest deflate once they are inside, seeing Howard already in conversation with someone or another. Surely someone richer then Steve would ever be. 

"Let's go get some appetizers, dear." Nat says, squeezing his arm. Her Russian accent is laced on pretty thick, although Steve has perfected a fake one of his own just for the occasion. He follows her closer to the refreshments table and the string quartet playing next to the table. She plucks a quiche off a silver tray, taking a slow bite out of it; her eyes light up. "Mm, this is amazing, you have to try it," she pushes it between his lips with her fingers, using it as an excuse to lean closer. "Your 8 o'clock," she whispers, leaning back with a smile on her face. 

"It is good, you're right." He puts a hand over his mouth, looking out of the side of his eye directly at Gideon Malik. He was laughing with a woman with bright strawberry blonde hair with her back turned to them. "What do you say we go say hi to a few old friends, dear?" 

"Sounds good to me," she says, taking another quiche before they walk over to Gideon and the blonde woman. "Gideon?" Natasha says, and they both turn towards Natasha and Steve. "My boyfriend and I wanted to congratulate you on your new position as CEO." Natasha leans in, setting a hand on his arm, her lips moving in what Steve knew would be a whispered "Hail HYDRA." She doesn't look at the blonde woman, but Steve does, and what he sees is enough to send his mind spiraling out of control. That was a face he recognized, one that had instructed him to get his shit together. That was Pepper Potts, smiling at Steve and holding a glass carefully between gloved fingers. 

"Yes, thank you very much. Have you met Miss Summers?" Gideon gestures to the blonde woman who was apparently not Pepper, hardly faltering at the arrival of what he would assume to be work friends given his ease at handling the whole Hail HYDRA business. 

Natasha turns, a flicker of shock registering in her eyes. "No, I don't believe I have," she says, taking the blondes outstretched hand in a graceful handshake. 

"Lizzie Summers." 

"Natasha Romanoff." 

Lizzie offers her hand to Steve, and he takes it, bringing it to his lips in a smooth move. She blushes red, and smiles up at him with inquisitive blue eyes. "Ivan Pozdnyakov." 

"Pleasure. I was just telling Gideon how sad I was that he wouldn't be joining the cast of WWIII. I think he would be just perfect in the role of a young Howard Stark, don't you?" She says it so easily, like it isn't an absolutely crack head thing of her to say. 

"I can see it, with that mustache," Nat says, looking Gideon up and down. 

Gideon shakes his head. "I'm afraid I don't act. Besides, there's got to be other options." 

"Your brother was the first option, but well.." Gideon blinks once, his grip tightening on the glass in his hand. "Anyway, if you're really unwilling, I'm sure we can find someone else, I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask." 

"Right, well, sorry to disappoint." 

"It's quite alright dear. I'd best be off. Natasha, Ivan," she gives them a nod, her eyes lingering on Steve's lips for a moment to long before she walks off into the crowd of rich people, her shiny black pumps clicking on the floor. 

"Howard Stark, can you imagine that." Gideon mutters, his eyes passing over Steve and Natasha. 

Steve shrugs. "I can't say that I can." 

"I mean the irony alone... anyway, what can I do for you? It's not often I meet some of my late fathers old business associates that I didn't already know." Gideon says, taking a sip of his wine. Steve vaguely remembers that he is only nineteen, making that completely illegal. 

"Yes, I'm afraid we've been out of contact for quite a while, working closely with Howard Stark. He doesn't appreciate fraternizing with the enemy." 

"Well, were hosting a little get together in a few months. You should stop by. January twentieth, at my late father's old mansion." He seems hardly surprised by the insinuation that they were two Russian spies working for HYDRA to infiltrate SI and therefore the US government.

"Of course we'll be there," Steve says. 

"We were so devastated to hear about your poor father." Natasha sets a hand gently on his arm. 

Gideon shrugs. "He was a real character." Which was probably code for: a huge fucking asshole. But of course, none of them would ever say that. Nobody would. 

The gentle music ended and at the front of the room a beautiful brunette stands, clearing her throat. "Thank you all for taking the time to serve the national wildlife conservation organization. Dinner will be served shortly, so please begin making your way to your seats." She steps down and the music starts back up. 

"I will see you two in January then," Gideon says, nodding to each of them in turn. 

"Absolutely," Steve says, setting a hand on Nat's lower back. 

Gideon doesn't smile as he walks off, but Natasha does, pulling Steve's hand to wrap around her waist as she begins to walk towards where Howard and Maria were standing. 

7 months later:

Natasha walks out of the large closet in a thin cotton nightgown, yanking the huge silver hoops out of her ears. "I'd say a successful first infiltration of HYDRA." 

"That's because they're all fucking stupid and old," Steve grumbles, throwing his jacket over the armchair. "How on earth did you get undressed so quickly." 

"That's none of your business, Vanya." Nat teases, collapsing onto the large bed. "I'm just an expert." 

"To be fair, you were trained for this line of work. I was trained to sell bonds." Steve counters, unbuttoning his shirt and walking into the vacated closet. 

"And you do wonderfully for someone who was trained to sell bonds." 

"Why do I feel like that's an insult." She doesn't respond, but he can almost feel the smug air radiating off of her. "Nat?" He asks in a very different tone of voice after a moment of silence. 

"Hm?" 

"Do you want to try and do something about the red room, while we're here?" He drops his shirt, pulling on a loose cotton one, waiting for a response. She is silent for a long time—long enough for him to get rid of his pants and trade them for softer fleece ones and begin hanging the suit up. 

"No." Her voice is small, like she's afraid of the answer. It's not that he wasn't expecting to illicit an emotional answer with a question like that, but her voice almost takes him out. "I have to go through the program." She says it like it's a confession of sin, like it is the worst of her. Perhaps it is. He steps out of the closet to find her curled in the chair facing away from the mirror, his suit jacket still over the shoulders of the chair. She looks... broken wasn't the right word. Just... sorry. She looks up at him with wet eyes shimmering with a pale gold—danger. That's what that meant. That meant that she could burst, and he still wasn't sure what she could do—how much damage she could do. Unfortunately.. he also hasn't been able to bring himself to tell her about it either. They've been isolated occurrences so far, and not once had he or anyone else been put at danger. Maybe that's all it would ever be, a golden glow in her eyes. 

Instead of telling her like he should, Steve climbs under the covers, patting the spot next to him. She laughs and gets up to turn the lights off before easing into the spot next to him. They don't touch, never do, but they face each other, and maybe that's enough. He wants to reach out to her and pull her into his arms, let her fall asleep and use him as a pillow. He still knew better then to offer. Either she would, or she wouldn't, but she deserved the right to choose without being pushed in either direction. Because Steve loved Nat. He always did.

As they fall asleep in silence, her hand finds his, holding it between them. Her eyes stop glowing and she closes them slowly in the cool light of a full moon.


	5. They might be bigger, but we’re faster and never scared

A month passes before they get a call. Steve answers the phone because he was closer; he doesn't recognize the voice on the other end of the line, but it implores him to meet it at an address he quickly scrawls down along with Natasha. Then the other end of the line is dead, hung up before he could ask a single question. When Nat and Steve leave, Tony is sitting in the front room, his Captain America action figure in his mouth. They take Howard's cheapest car up to the specified location, which turns out to be a Waffle House, the W flickering at them as they pull up. "Well darling, here we go." Steve says, helping her out of the car. They enter the Waffle House, and somehow Natasha instantly identifies the person they are supposed to be meeting with. Must be a spy thing? She slides into the booth across from him, allowing Steve the space to sit next to her. "Anyone sitting here." 

The man sets down a cup of coffee with a clink. "No not at all. Hi, I'm Adam." 

"Natasha." 

"Ivan." The man has his hair slicked back with copious amounts of gel, and it doesn't help Steve's unease that he's wearing a loose coat. He could have any number if weapons under there. This could be a little HYDRA stick up. 

"So where do you two come from?" He asks, giving Steve an oily once over. 

"Russia, originally. We're here on visas working with the government." Steve answers cooly, folding his hands in front of him. 

Just then a waitress appears in front of the table, her hair in honey brown curls. "Heya, how can I help you?" Her voice is tinted with a southern accent that makes Steve wonder where she is from and what she's doing in New York. 

"Two coffees. Creamer, no sugar." Steve answers. 

She clicks her pen, smiling down at him. "And will that be all for you today, sir?" 

"Yes, thank you." 

"I'll have those out right away." She walks off, a spring in her step. 

"And, what about you Adam?" 

"I'm from California. Now I work for... a man who may be interested in what you're doing for the government." He picks up a packet of Splenda, slowly tearing it open while his eyes flicker between the two of them. He dumps it into the cup of coffee, swirling it around a few times. 

Steve feels a subtle hand on his thigh, patting him in a soothing motion. "I'm sure we could... work something out," Nat says, her other hand tucking back a loose strand of hair. 

"Good." He grabs a napkin, scrawling a number on it with a pen he produces from a pocket. "That's his number, he'll be in contact." He quickly finishes the rest of his coffee, before sliding out of the booth. "Nice meeting you." 

"Nice meeting you, Adam." Steve says, nodding respectfully. Once he's gone, Steve slides to the newly vacated bench, fiddling with his hands. Nat slips the all-important napkin into her purse, leaning across the table with her head on one hand. "Ivan, моя любовь (my love), how are you doing." She takes his hand, subtly tapping out a message on his palm in Morse code. 

"I'm sick of Stark. He's never even around any more."

"He did just have a baby." Probable bug, don't touch. He nods and she smiles. 

"His wife had a baby, not him." 

She snorts, looking up at the waitress who comes up to the table with two takeout cups of coffee. "My manager said you have to leave, I'm so so sorry, the coffees are on the house." She says, setting them down in front of the pair quickly as if she's afraid of retaliation. 

"What, why?" Nat says, sitting up at attention. 

"Some of the other customers are uncomfortable, I'm very sorry." In her stress, a bit of her southern accent seeps through 

Steve grabs the cup in front of him tightly. "This is very rude—" 

"I know sir, I'm sorry."

"—but we'll go," he makes sure to layer on his fake Russian accent, almost positive that that is why they were being kicked out. 70's America wasn't exactly the most receptive to Russians. 

"Ridiculous," Nat says, standing up and grabbing her purse harshly, creasing the leather. "Yelp will be—" she falters, her mouth snapping shut. "Come on Vanya." She turns, her hair fanning around her dramatically, her cup vacated on the table. He grabs both cups, sliding out of the booth and following after her. Once they're in the safety of the car, Nat begins to laugh, taking her cup from Steve, who also laughs. "God, that was the easiest time I've ever had getting away from a bug." 

He raises a brow at her as she kicks the hat into gear. "Who knew? Racism." 

She snorts, kicking the car into drive. "I suspect there are people who would be offended by Captain America expressing a sentiment like that." She drives back out of the spot, speeding back towards the Starks' mansion. 

"Please, people will be offended no matter what I say." Steve says, leaning his arm against the window. That, he knew, was true. Since the moment he got the serum, he had been expected to say nothing, and if he had to, to make it inspiring and non political. He was Captain America, and if he didn't act a certain way, the world would look down at him and America. If news ever got out that he was bisexual, there would surely be national backlash, even in the 21st century. 

Tony had been pansexual and loud about it, but he had never been the mythological figurehead of the country. Maybe once Steve returns to his time he can finally come out. To honor Tony's memory. 

Was he going back? Well.. yes. Eventually, he had to go back. He could spend a few years in the past, but he still had a job to do, he knew that now. With Nat back, the whole ordeal would be a thousand percent more tolerable. He still had a world to protect—or maybe a whole universe now. Well, the Guardians and Carol could handle the universe. Maybe the world was ambitious enough. 

And there were people waiting for him. Bucky was waiting for him. 

It's three months before the phone rings. By then, Steve was just about ready to give in and bite the eight year bullet. Tony was crawling, and he had decided that the sight of Steve was no longer offensive, so they were getting along well enough. Howard went back to work, and Nat was constantly training. Steve assumed it was just a stress thing; she had always trained a lot. Maybe it was more—he didn't want to ask. 

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone set aside specifically for HYDRA phone calls, so that Howard and Maria knew not to answer. 

"Mr. Pozdnyakov, I presume?" The mans voice makes Steve's skin crawl. How much blood was on his hands, how much more would be there by the time he was dead. 

"You presume correctly." 

"My name is Daniel Whitehall. I believe you have something for me." He is commanding, and Steve gets the feeling that he's the center of every room he enters. This is a powerful man, one who could have Steve dead in hours, yet he was playing a game here, a rather dangerous one. 

Steve swallows the knot in his throat. "Yes, the late Mr. Malik positioned is within SHIELD to gather intel on what they were doing and what Zola was doing." 

"You have been undercover for quite some time then. I'm sure you are unaware of the plot to dispose of Arnin Zola." He says it like it isn't a bomb shell, like it is just another tidbit of unimportant information occupying the vastness of his mind. One thing was for sure, Daniel Whitehall made Steve's blood boil. "He should be... rather unwell soon. I suggest not eating anything meant for him." 

"Yes, certainly not, sir." 

"Good. I will be expecting a full write up of SHIELD's activities that may concern HYDRA or the safety of the world. You will be expected to drop this file off at 10:00 am sharp on March 15th at 1400 I street north west, in Washington DC. Failure to do so will result in immediate expulsion from HYDRA. The chance that you will see anyone is low. Leave the file on the doorstep and go." He rattles off the information, and Steve already has it memorized, but he writes it down just in case. 

"Yes sir, is that all." 

"Yes. Wish Ms. Romanoff my best." The phone clicks before Steve can reply. God, he hates dealing with old men who think they're so mysterious and important, god, they can't have a normal ducking conversation. He hangs up the phone angrily, sitting down on the floor with a huff. 

From within the front room, he hears a "babababa," which means that Tony is awake. Steve suspected threats Howard and Maria liked to put him to bed in the front room because it was near where Steve spent most of his time, the library, and they wanted someone who would be able to reliably get to him if he started crying. In such a big house, Steve suspected it would be easy to not hear a baby wake up for someone without super human hearing. He sighs and gets up off the floor, walking into the front room and over to the crib. 

Sure enough, there was Tony making grabby hands at him. "Bababa." 

"Hey kiddo." Steve always felt weird around baby Tony. Howard and Maria loved seeing them together because Steve—in their eyes—was wonderful friends with their very alive and brilliant son in the future. Steve knew though, that he had almost killed Tony. That he was in love with Tony. That on some levels, Steve was responsible for his ultimate undoing. But this Tony wasn't the same as his Tony; this Tony thought of Steve only as a man who wasn't his dad, but was nice. Uncle Steve, maybe one day. Uncle Steve and Aunt Nat, one of whom wasn't born and one of whom was frozen in a block of ice right now. Sure. 

Steve scoops Tony up into his arms, bouncing him against his him. "What do you say we go find your mom."

"Weee!" He squeals, grabbing Steve's longish black hair. 

"Ok, ok. Cmon kiddo." Tony didn't cry much, which was a blessing within itself. He hadn't really seen a frazzled exhausted Maria, like most new parents were. Maybe part of that was due to the fact that that they had Steve and Nat around to help in addition to Mr. Jarvis. It was nice. Like a family, in a way. 

But it could never stay like this. Steve couldn't stay here. There was going to be another Captain America around here soon, and Tony would have a new Uncle Steve. If they were gone in a timely manner, Tony wouldn't even remember him. Tony sticks his fingers in his mouth, staring up at Steve with huge brown eyes. "You're going to be amazing, Tony." 

"Habubuh." Tony says in response, smiling a toothless grin. 

They pull off the information trade without a hitch. Most of it was outdated or unimportant, but Howard has given them the name of a project—the lighthouse—due to start construction next year. Steve had also thrown in some tidbits of information the weren't particularly helpful to HYDRA, but were helpful to them. Like the idea that Anton Vanko would be working with Howard on a big project from abroad. If they could convince HYDRA to take him out, that was one less problem to be worried about in the future. Steve had seen the footage of Tony fighting his son, Ivan. The fewer threats out there, the better Steve felt about what they were manipulating. Already, there was no telling how much they had changed. There was no threat to the timelines, but the effects of their actions could ripple out to every corner of history. 

It's another five months before Daniel Whitehall calls again, at which point Steve can sense that Nat is getting antsy. Seven times in two months, her eyes had flashed gold at him. She answers the phone this time, nodding and making confirmations. Her posture changes the moment she picks up the phone, shifting from her to a spy right before his eyes. 

Howard and Jarvis were away in California, and Maria had left Steve and Nat to babysit while she was at a gala. The TV was on, but Tony was much more interested in the little toy circuit board Howard had gotten him. For the most part, Tony would just hit the pieces together, but once while nobody was looking he had made it light up. 

Nat walks into the front room, stepping around Tony and his scattered circuits to sit gracefully on the plush white couch. "Whitehall wants us to come in. To do real work for HYDRA. At a facility in Siberia." 

"Oh." Steve looks down at Tony, almost a year old. "When?" 

"A week. You should re-dye your hair." She tucks gets feet under her body, leaning easily on the arm rest. Steve nods, focusing back on the TV. It was shit, but that's what he sacrificed coming back into the past. "We've been here for a year tomorrow." 

He looks back at her in surprise. "Really?"

Nat nods, smiling down at Tony who had crawled over to her and was leaning against the side of the couch, offering her one of the circuit pieces. "Thank you, dear."

"Ba!" 

He goes back to playing and Nat sets the circuit on the arm rest, propping her head on her hand. "Are you okay, Steve? I'm sure that this is... hard for you."

Steve considers her and the question. "I love Tony, and I don't know that I ever won't, but... I'm alright. He's gone, but he's right here, and he's going to be great, so I guess I'm fine." 

"He forgave you." 

"Pepper said as much. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself." 

"Even if it wasn't your fault?" She considers him with an unflinching gaze, and Steve for one wishes he had half the balls she had. 

"Yeah." It was true. He would fight Tony in that cave again if it came down to it, but he would never have lied. He thought to the two letters tucked safely away with his suit and the Time travel devices. He hadn't planned on leaving this Tony a letter, and he certainly didn't plan on letting the Winter Soldier kill Howard and Maria, but one of those things he would be okay with doing. "You're a good friend, Natasha." 

She doesn't look at him, but he can tell that her eyes light up. Of the Avengers, she was his closest confidant by far. They had spent the past five years together, trying desperately to piece themselves and the whole world back together. It nearly killed him to loose her. He knew in his heart that if it had been him on Vormir, he would have sacrificed himself in a heartbeat. She had so much to live for, and it wasn't fair for her to die. "Thank you." 

Three days later, Howard returns from California in a flurry, although maybe that was just what Howard was like. "Steve, do you still want to have dinner with Peggy?" He says, peering around Maria's shoulder from where she was hugging him. "She's in town for the next week." Peggy has been busy or out of town for nearly a year now. Steve supposed the Director of SHIELD would be a busy person, but given the fact that not even she knew he was back, she could just be avoiding Howard. 

In four days, Steve and Nat would be gone, on a flight to Siberia. But that was four days from now. It felt like a death sentence in a way, but it was one he had signed up for willingly. Still, he may as well live it up while he still can. "Yeah, that would be nice." 

And that, folks, is how Steve ended up standing in front of Peggy Carter on a Tuesday evening, tears streaming down her face, and her fiancé standing next to her, looking between Steve and Peggy. "So... what am I missing?" He says, flexing his grip on his cane. 

"Danny, that's Steve." She says, gasping and putting a hand over her mouth. 

"Who?" 

"Steve Rogers," Steve says, offering him a hand to shake—the one that meant he wouldn't have to do some maneuvering with the crutch. "I have some explaining to do." Daniel shakes his hand hesitantly, a look of shock on his face. 

"Yeah, yeah you do." Peggy says, rubbing the mascara from beneath her eyes. 

"Come inside, we can talk in the kitchen." 

She nods, walking past him into the house, shocked into silence for what Steve guessed was the first time ever. Daniel stops on his way past Steve, waiting for him to close the door. "I don't know if you are who you say you are, but I don't want any funny business. She's moved on." He holds himself in a commanding way, despite the crutch he was using to hold himself up. He was exactly the kind of guy Peggy deserved. Steve smiles, despite the almost-threat in his words. 

"I'm not here for that, man." 

"Just thought I'd let you know." He smiles back and continues walking. It's an odd sort of interaction, the kind that makes Steve's insides turn. Peggy had gotten over him—as she should've—and here was the proof. Steve follows after Daniel into the kitchen where the heated conversation between Peggy and Howard falls silent when he enters the room. 

"Don't let me interrupt." Steve says, raising a brow at the two of them. Peggy stiffens here back. 

"How are you here?" She says, holding herself with an air of confidence that Steve would bet he could blow over. 

He takes a step forward, leaning his hip on the counter. "Long story short, I'm from the year 2023. Me and my companion Natasha are traveling back through time to return some powerful stones we borrowed to be used in our time, one of which included something hidden in the tesseract. Now we're here to.. to right some wrongs." 

"I'm sorry, time travel?" Daniel butts in, a shocked look on his face. "You're serious?" 

"Deadly." 

Howard grins. "Invented by my son, of course. Takes after his father." 

"The... newborn one that Maria is getting?" Daniel asks.

"The very same," Steve answers.

Peggy inhales sharply. "I'm sorry, that's very interesting, but how did you live until 2023? You died. I was there." 

Steve lets out a sad single laugh. "Not dead, per se. due to the serum, my body remained frozen for almost 70 years, until I was found in 2011. SHIELD thawed me out, and well.. the rest is classified, I'm afraid." 

At that moment Maria walks in, Nat next to her, and Tony on her hip. "Evening Peggy, Danny." 

Natasha gives them a tight lipped smile, which was a warmer greeting then most people would get to meet her. Not that they would know that. "Hi Maria, lovely to see you again," Peggy says, still blinking at Steve. Luckily though, she had stopped crying, so there was a positive. "You're serious?" 

"Completely serious. Howard's trying to fish me out of the Arctic right now." 

"Efforts have been increased by 100%." 

Peggy nods once, looking a bit shell shocked. "I'm.. going to go clean up in the washroom." 

"Use mine," Maria offers her, setting a hand on her shoulder. 

"Thanks Mari." Peggy walks out, heading towards the upstairs bathroom, her shoulders stiff as she leaves. 

An awkward silence hangs in the room for a moment, broken when Howard claps his hands together. "Alright, well, who wants to sit down," he says with all his usual bravado. 

"Yes, let's," Maria says, shifting on her feet. 

The two Stark's herd them towards the dining room, and they all end up seated around the table. Steve is sitting with Nat on one side and Daniel on the other. Part of him wanted to be next to Peggy, but the logical part of him knew that that was actually a terrible idea. Peggy returns shortly, looking as impeccable as before, gracefully taking her seat next to Daniel. "So I'm assuming you're Natasha?" 

"The one and only." Natasha says. It's obvious to Steve that she's slipped behind a mask, but nobody else seems to notice. 

"So... you're.. companions." She says, with a raised brow. And there was another mask. Natasha pretending she's was interested at socializing with strangers and Peggy pretending she wasn't completely shell shocked with the new news. 

Natasha lets out an actual genuine laugh. "No, no, not like that. We're just.. really good friends." 

"I see." She tries to suppress a smile and makes not so subtle eye contact with Maria who giggles and shrugs. Now there was an interaction that Steve did not understand. He wasn't stupid, but he had unfortunately never really learned how to understand women. They usually just fell for his looks and his fame before getting to know him, which wasn't something he was really into. Well, it was fairly obvious that Steve didn't understand men either. He was—as the kids call it—a disaster bisexual. "So Steve, hows the future treating you? Has Howard made a flying car yet?" 

"He can't answer that, Carter," Howard says quickly, grinning across the table at her. 

"Well now I'm curious too," Daniel says with a chuckle. 

"Tony made some, but they're not even close to cost sufficient, so they were never released." Natasha cuts in, smiling at Steve. If she knew that Steve didn't actually know that, he didn't know, but he did know that she probably wasn't lying. It was entirely plausible, and more importantly, she wasn't a liar. 

Howard grins. "Glad I set him on the right path then." 

"Yeah, but you still didn't do shit, pretty boy," Peggy says, grinning at him. 

Where did Howard go wrong? This Howard loved his son so so much, but Tony's brief mentions of his father had revealed all Steve needed to know about his childhood. Howard was distant, busy, downright hurtful, diminishing, angry. Perhaps it would come in time. Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe Tony would be a happier, healthier person in this timeline. Wouldn't that be something. But one thing was for certain, Howard did not set Tony on his path. That was a path that Tony carved himself away from everything Howard had stood for. It didn't hurt to let Howard believe what he wanted to though. 

Dinner goes on without a hitch, that is, until Peggy suggests they do this again while she was still in town. 

"We can't," Nat says quickly, butting in before Steve can say... well, whatever he had been going to say. "We're going undercover in a few days." 

"Huh? Undercover where?" Peggy asks, looking up from Tony, who Maria had given to her. 

"Classified," She says, squeezing Steve's arm. He would be insulted if he hadn't been willing to straight up tell her. It was important that the plan went off without a hitch, and interference from SHIELD would be a really big fucking hitch. 

"So that's why your hair is black," she says to Steve, looking back down at Tony. "I hope you're safe." 

"You know I'm never safe, Pegs," Steve says, smiling at her. 

A sad look takes over her face, which is the exact opposite of what he had been aiming to produce. "I know." There was no point in asking. It wasn't his place, and he didn't even belong here. Soon enough, she could reunite with a Steve who could stay. Who would stay. Who hadn't been through the past 12 years of shit. Who will be reunited with Bucky shortly after emerging from the ice. Who would have a better life. Steve feels his chest tightening with the onset of what was sure to make him look like a lunatic. A panic attack. Because not even Steve Rogers could deal with his problems in a healthy way. No, because his mistakes would always crush down on him. He feels Nat tapping on his arm: Breathe. 

He inhales deeply, just now realizing that he hadn't been breathing. So that's why his lungs felt like they were being crushed. In for four counts, hold for four counts, out for four counts. In. Hold. Out. The room comes into sharp focus, and he's quite frankly delighted to see that nobody was staring at him like he grew another head. Other then Nat, not a single eye was on him. He offers up a thin smile, and she returns it. You ok?, she taps

He shakes his head no subtly, because he wasn't. She possessed enough tact to handle the situation smoothly and without causing a scene, and he knew that she understood that just because he wasn't okay didn't mean that he had to be babied. She was the one who took care of him after his first panic attack. He had been utterly unprepared when he heard her say his name behind him—it hurled him back to the forest in Wakanda, Bucky turning to dust between his fingertips. His last word, Steve's name on his lips. Natasha pulled him up off the ground and picked him up over her shoulder to get him to the couch, where she implored him to breathe with her. Whatever she had been going to ask him was long forgotten as they settled down for a long night of trading stories about their fallen teammates. He woke up the following morning on the couch, with her sprawled atop him, a comfortable weight that reminded him that not everyone was lost. 

The following day had been the first time he chickened out of going to see Tony. He decided not to because he knew for a fact that Tony didn't want to see him. They had had the funeral, but Tony hadn't said a word to him. Steve had even been invited to Tony and Pepper's wedding, only about a week after the funeral, but he suspected he had only been invited as a courtesy, because still, not a single word from Tony. 

It was alright, but it still hurt. He shouldn't have thought he was going to go see Tony anyways. He did it to himself. 

Everyone else moved on, but he never could. Peggy moved on. Tony moved on. Bucky moved on. Steve was hanging onto the past, and even now that he was here he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. 

Eventually he brings himself to rejoin the conversation, but it's not the same. It never is. Then Peggy and Daniel leave, Howard and Maria take Tony upstairs, and Steve collapses weakly onto the bed. "You'll wrinkle your clothes," Natasha says, rubbing his back. 

"See if I fucking care," he mutters half heartedly. 

"Go change your clothes, Rogers," she says, her voice still gentle. 

He listens, partially because he doesn't really have a choice, partially because he knows that he should, and partially because he doesn't really want Nat to beat his ass. She changes quickly after he's done and shuts the lights off, slipping under the covers of the bed next to him. Gently, she takes his hand resting between them, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "Do you want to talk about it." 

"I just... I just don't know where my home is anymore. If I ever even had one. It just feels like I don't belong anywhere." It's a moment of raw honesty. He doesn't even have to think about the words. His throat doesn't clench and his cheeks don't burn until after the confession is out there, meeting his ears for the first time. She doesn't say anything, but he knows she hasn't fallen asleep, because she continues to rub the back of his hand. 

He starts to cry. There's no shame in it, just a sort of acceptance. Steve knows very well that Natasha isn't going to judge him for it and that they're alone here. "That's why we're here traveling, isn't it. You just want to find a home." Hearing it put so plainly sends him into another wave of tears, a hollow emptiness curling in his chest. She wasn't wrong though. She wasn't wrong. 

"Steve I—" she sighs and uses her other hand to wipe under his eyes. "When Clint found me, I was 28. It turned my world upside down. I had to go through years of interrogation and careful observation before anyone there trusted me. By the time it was done, I felt so alienated from the Americans, but I knew I could never go back to the Russians with how much I had given up. I was stranded between two worlds. I took a few months off, disappeared into the American west." her words pause as she reminisces, and her eyes glow orange. For the first time, it doesn't feel malevolent, just as if it's there. "I didn't find what I was looking for until I came back and found Clint with his arms folded, glaring at me. Come on, he said, we have work to do. So I got to work and I never stopped. 

"It's fine to be going on this journey, but once it's over, you're still going to have choices to make." She closes her eyes. "Go to sleep Steve, you need it." Her fingertips begin to glow where they're pressed against his palm and a wave of relaxation passes through his body, leaving him feeling just a little more whole. 

"Good night, Natasha." He squeezes her hand gently, closing his own eyes. Sleep claims him quickly. 

Four days later they're on a plane to Siberia into the belly of the beast that has haunted Steve's dreams for the past eighty years, but they're going together, so there's a chance that it won't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re all well 💖


	6. See the vultures circling dark clouds

Nine months into their infiltration, Captain America is the news on everyone's mind. More importantly, that Howard Stark had found him, and sent a team to the Arctic to explore the fallen Valkyrie before removing what was believed to be his remains from where they were frozen. Clearly though, that was a front presented by Howard to explain why he wasn't going to thaw him right away. To Steve and Nat, it was a poorly veiled call for them to reach out and tell him what to do, how to explain all this to Steve. 

Unfortunately for Howard, at that time, Steve and Nat have risen enough in HYDRA's ranks to have become a staple in HYDRA procedures, and therefore an obvious hole of they were gone. They were getting close, Steve knew it. Howard could wait. They hadn't been here the past nine months only to compromise everything now. 

Still, there was a pressing need for a sudden speeding up of the time tables, so drastic measures were going to have to be taken. A month. If Howard could hold out a month, Nat would go back with or without Bucky and leave Steve there. It wasn't ideal, but only Steve could bring Bucky back. 

Every Sunday for the past nine months, they had attended combat arena, where underlings volunteered to be sent in to fight to the death for a chance to come out victorious and move up in HYDRA ranks. It was vicious, brutal, bloody. Nothing Steve wanted to partake in, but something he knew he could excel at given the proper motivation. Nat could too, perhaps easier then him, but there was no need to reveal how deadly she was to these people. He scrawls his fake name on the sign up sheet in small print, sealing his fate. 

"It's too late to back out," Nat says when he gets back to the nice ish room HYDRA had assigned them. 

"I know." 

"You have to win." If he won; they would be in a position to request to see the Winter Soldier project, and in turn, where he was being held. Then who knows, they could be out of here in a week, Bucky in tow. 

"I know." 

The sand under Steve's feet is clumped with blood. There is blood on his face, his clothes, everywhere. Some of it is his, most of it is not. Dead bodies litter the ground around him, three of them to be exact. Cheering meets his eardrums, aa he bigs his heel in the sand, letting out an animalistic growl at the last remaining man. He screams in rage, charging at Steve. Neither of them have weapons or armor, but if the fact that Steve's entire body was a weapon he would probably be kicked out. He sidesteps, tripling the other man to his stomach. He scampers away, but Steve lunges at him, pinning him to the ground. 

All around him, shouts of "finish him," erupt, and he knows he has to. He feels the fear in the other man as he begins to beat the back of his skull in. He doesn't stop when he feels shattered bone under his knuckles until his fist crashes through the now long dead man's skull, sinking into his brain with a sensation that makes Steve gag. 

The crowd is stunned into silence, then they begin to cheer, screaming in favor of Steve's victory. He dislodges his fist, and raises it to the sky, bodily fluids dripping down his arm. He wipes it away on his bloody clothes, limping towards the exit of the arena. He was almost sure his leg was broken, but it would be healed in an hour or two. Steve didn't consider himself a brutal person, but clearly his actions had something to say about that. Sure, part of it had been playing a role, but part of it had been loosing himself in the act of slaughter. Before he can reach the doors, Nat bursts from them, cupping his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. People cheer and wolf whistle, but all of it disgusts Steve. Well, all of it but Nat kissing him. That had become a.. a necessity. 

"You need to get cleaned up." Evident by the blood smearing her lips and hands. "Congratulations, dear, they like you." 

"You going to join me in the showers любимый (darling)?" He nips back, walking next to her and correcting his limp with every step. He doesn't touch her because that would ruin her clothes, but she does clutch his arm with her already bloodied hand. 

"Maybe I will Vanya." They both knew she wouldn’t be. 

Adam comes up to them, a pencil tucked behind his ear. "That was quite the display Mr. Pozdnyakov. As customary, we will grant one request for you, so long as it is within our power." 

Steve pretends to consider. "Could I possibly see the Winter Soldier project in action?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, Vanya, that's not real," Nat scolds. "What about extra dinner time rations," she offers as a useless counter. 

"You didn't give him the chance to answer, Tasha." 

Adam raises a brow at them, an almost smile on his face. "I can organize a showing just for you and your fiancée." And that's how you get bank, hook line and sinker. 

"Wait, it's real?" Nat says, her mouth hanging open.

"Yes, the program is very much real. I'll allow you to clean up now." Adam walks away swiftly, not waiting for a response. He still made Steve's skin crawl, but not as much as his boss, who was apparently manipulating the strings of an entire underground organization from a prison cell. Daniel Whitehall scared the shit out of Steve. 

Nat takes his hand, pulling him towards their room. "Better get you cleaned up then." He follows, smiling fondly down at her. It wasn't hard to pretend, given that he really did love her. Unquestionably. Once they're in the room, she punches his shoulder. "Fuck, that was violent. Hot too." 

He snorts. "Go wash your hands, Tasha." Long ago they had agreed upon the need to keep up some pretenses even in their room, there could easily be a bug in the room and it was better to pretend then to die. The only real conversations they could have were in Morse code, tapped out on each others skin quickly. He walks into the bathroom, ending the possibility of an honest conversation with the click of a door. He looks down at his fist, already healing from the damage it had sustained from his little show. The blood soaked clothes get tossed right down the laundry chute, and he climbs into the small, one-person shower. His reflection is hardly his anymore, so he doesn't bother to look. His hair is still dyed black, and he hardly feels like himself after being here for so long. The cold water and scratchy soap can't get the feeling of blood off of his skin. 

The important thing to focus on was that he was going to see Bucky tomorrow and they would be able to start planning an extraction, not the terrible things he's had to do to get here. 

Better him then Natasha though. She could never get in a combat situation, not here. Lucky for him he had been able to play it off as her bring a secret weapon, but in reality he was scared that the power inside her would be released. So far, the only evidence of anything beyond her eyes glowing when she gets emotional was when she had calmed his body down after dinner with Peggy. Maybe that was it. It would be really nice if that was it. 

He leans his head against the side of the shower, cold water hitting his back. After that, it's a series of automatic movements that require little to no consideration until the point where he is curled under the thick but scratchy blankets. A few minutes later, Nat slides in next to him, meeting his blue eyes with green ones. She takes his hand, squeezing it in a series of rhythms. You ok?

I will be, he squeezes back

"You did good today," she says quietly but out loud. 

"Thanks."

One step closer to finding Bucky. 

Eight days later they receive a summoning to a previously unheard of outer facility, only nine miles from where they were. This whole time, they had been so close. Nat insists they walk instead of taking a transport. Once they're deep in the Siberian woods, they pick up a jog, while trading free words. Nothing too incriminating, but things that were honest and real, not sent through a filter that would approve them for HYDRA ears. 

Remarkably, she doesn't get winded until well into the seventh mile, at which point they slow to a walk. She grabs his hand, squeezing. _Don't do anything rash. ___

___I know that. ____ _

_____No matter what we see. Promise me. _She fixes him with a scrutinizing look as if she doesn't believe he will be able to do this without a significant amount of reminding.__ _ _ _ _

_______I promise. _It would be hard—he was nearly positive that they were going to torture Bucky right there in front of him—but he knew better then to let his emotions loose here and now. There would be a time, and it would be soon. Soon, he was going to blow this place to shreds and run back to America if he had to, Bucky and Nat in tow. Just not today.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Apparently she takes that for an adequate answer because she lets go of his hand. Or maybe she lets go of his hand because she sees the large grey building in the distance as they reach the top of a hill too. It's nondescript, but threatening in a way that made Steve want to blow it up. "That must be it," She says, with quiet reverence._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"No turning back now."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It feels like no time at all until they arrive at the front of a large barb wire fence. The gate swings open with a buzz, and she takes his hand before stepping through. She doesn't relay any information to him, so he takes it for what it is. Comfort. From here on out, they were under scrutinizing surveillance, so this was the most she was going to be able to give him. Two guards with large guns walk up to them. The one on the right speaks in a surprisingly high pitched tone: "Ivan Pozdnyakov. Natasha Romanoff. My name is Howard White, we will be guarding you for the duration of your visit at top secret vault 0-19. Right this way." He and the other man stand on either side of them, a bit to the front so they can direct. This place was obviously designed like a maze, but due to Steve's perfect memory, there was no question to if they would be able to do it again. They get to a large set of metal bolted doors, at which point Howard White presses a key to a pad and they slide open._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The room inside is everything Steve imagined it would be. There is a chair with torturous devices arranged around it, a whole array of weapons to the point that Steve can tell which are for the Winter Soldier and which are used against Bucky. Blood splatters in areas on the floor, leaving crimson stains. There is the chryo device, a large human size box with wires, straps, and tubes decorating the inside and outside. Bucky isn't in the chryo chamber though, he is in an adjoining room, strapped to a simple metal chair completely alone and looking for all the world like a scared puppy. Three scientists are in the room, but none of them are in the smaller room with Bucky. Steve assumes that there is one sided glass between them so Bucky can't see anything but the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Ah, Mr. Pozdnyakov. Good evening. Mr. Richards has instructed my team to give you a full run through of the Weapon and it's procedures and capabilities."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Steve's hand tightens where it's holding Natashas, but he nods, a friendly smile on his face. "Sounds great." He wanted nothing more then to punch this man in his perfect white teeth. Bucky was more then a weapon and he certainly wasn't an it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Wonderful. So prior to your arrival we unfroze the Weapon, and put it in that room. If it isn't properly isolated, it always complains before we have the chance to clear its mind of all but what we have taught it." He gestured to Bucky, who is staring at the ground now, a blank look on his face. "Unfortunately, we haven't found how to permanently erase its mind, but rest assured, we are working on it."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"So... it's not wiped right now." It makes his gut clench to say it, but the question was worth asking. If Bucky remembered him... it could throw them into a whole new arena. Nat squeezes his hand, a reminder to calm down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Unfortunately no." The scientist, hands another scientist a clipboard, and he rushes off to get something after considering for a moment. "We're nearly ready to bring it out of isolation. If you would like to stand over there," he points to an area near the wall, "then we can guarantee your safety."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Steve takes a few steps back, but not enough to make it into the designated area. He was confident that Bucky wouldn't hurt him. "You may begin."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He nods, walking towards the isolation chamber, a gun now obviously tucked in his pocket. The door opens and closes, and his voice comes over the comm system. "Mr. Barnes, my name is Dr. Dovrick, in case you have forgotten, you suffer from chronic amnesia and are at this facility for voluntary experimental treatment."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bucky furrows his brows, looking up at the man. "I don't... where's Steve?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Steve tightens his grip on Nat's hand, and she steps closer, leaning against him. Even now, Bucky knew that Steve would be by his side. How many times had he asked for Steve Rogers, who was currently frozen in a lab in New York. "My apologies sir, but Mr. Rogers perished during your time in the war." He pauses, patting Bucky's shoulder. "If you will come out through here for treatment.."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Steve... died?" Bucky rises, holding himself apprehensively. "No he didn't. I was..." his eyes cloud over, taking a misty look. "I would remember that." He looks down at the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You have short term memory loss sir, which means you can make no new memories since you fell from the train. If you could please come with me." He opens the door, gesturing for Bucky to walk through._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He does, as if in a daze, his eyes scanning the room. Steve sees the fear in his eyes at all the torture equipment, and the fear at the two heavily armed guards standing around Steve and Nat, and the recognition at Steve's face. "Steve? What's going on?" He demands turning back on the scientist walking through the door behind him. "What are you doing to Steve?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Sir, please remain calm, Mr. Rogers is dead." He holds his hands out as if he is soothing a horse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"No he's not! What are you doing!" Steve can feel Nat bristling next to him, readying herself for a fight. He does the same, letting go of her hand. This could get ugly fast. "You've got him hostage!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Mr. Rogers died in the war," he says, clenching his jaw, a hand moving for the pistol in his jacket._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________" _Captain _Rogers is right there." He points a finger at Steve. "Steve, what's going on." Steve feels every eye in the room turn on him, feels every person in the room sizing him up with what they knew of the long perceived dead Captain America.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Do not answer, Mr. Pozdnyakov. Mr. Barnes, please take a seat, you are becoming irrational."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Steve sees it a second before Bucky does, a momentary flash of the HYDRA sigma on the computer screen. Before Steve can really register what's happening, Bucky punches the doctor with a clenched metal fist, the doctor crumbling to the floor. Bucky throws himself behind a metal table as guns start blasting. Steve shares a look with Nat and she shrugs before they move in unison, lunging out at the two guards around them. "Hey Buck," Steve says casually, kicking the gun out of the guards hands. It clatters loudly to the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________A scalpel is hurled from behind the table, sinking into one of the remaining scientists throats, sending a spurt of blood arcing across the floor. The guard Steve is fighting throws a punch at him, but Steve grabs his fist, flipping him to land on his back on the floor. Steve pins him to the ground, clenching one hand around the throat of the guard. Panic flashes through his eyes as his airways are cut off. He jerks wildly, trying to throw Steve away. He goes limp under Steve's hands and when he gets up he finds the remaining scientist dead and the other guard also in a heap on the floor. "What the fuck is going on?" Bucky asks, looking between Steve and Nat, while also holding his metal arm cautiously away from his body._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"No time," Nat cuts him off, pointing to a security camera. "Weapons, everybody," she says, heading to the rack of weaponry and grabbing two obscenely large guns. Steve feels it like a punch to the gut when he sees her eyes glowing bright orange. Okay... maybe he should tell her now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Nat?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"What?" She snaps, tossing him a gun and grabbing another to toss to Bucky, who fumbles momentarily with it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Why are her eyes glowing?" Bucky says, absolutely beating him to the chase._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Huh?" She says, caught off guard when the doors burst open, a spray of bullets entering the room. The three of them duck for cover, before sending a spray of bullets back. He hears Nat grunt behind him, her bullets faltering for a second. The HYDRA guards fall in waves, but Steve doubts his abilities to hold out like this for long. "Steve?" He hears fear in Natasha's voice, and he turns to look at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And what a sight she was, her hair floating in coils around her, her hands glowing where they're attached to the gun, and a bullet embedded in her leg. Her eyes are wild and glowing with the force of the sun._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"What's happening?" Her voice is dripping with fear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Not a great time to talk about it, just... use it if you can." He looks back at the agents, shooting again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Behind him, she rises to her feet, then she rises a few inches off the ground, the force of a tornado blasting away from her body. Orange light accompanies it, howling as it blasts into Steve. It knocks Steve into the wall, and Bucky into the table, but when he looks up, the HYDRA agents are gone, blown to shreds. Nat is back on the floor, her hair no longer floating around her, but her eyes glowing with a panicked fear as she looks down at her hands. "Alright, three cheers for the glowy lady, can someone explain what the hell is happening," Bucky says, getting to his feet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"There's no time, we have to run." Steve slings the gun around his shoulder with the strap, and he reaches for Nat's hand. She flinches away, holding them tight to her chest. "Nat. Come on, I'm not afraid of you." He reaches for her hand again, this time she lets him, the glow in her eyes diminishing slightly. "Can you walk on—" he looks down at the keg that had just had a hole blown in it, only to find completely healed skin. "Okay, let's go." She follows willingly, Bucky jogging up next to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He's clearly buzzing with questions, probably "what's with my arm" at the top of them. Thankfully, he doesn't ask them and Nat doesn't fight Steve as he leads his two best friends through the maze like halls of a HYDRA base. It's silent aside from heavy breathing and the sound of their feet on concrete floors. They only encounter three more guards on the way out, all of which Steve shoots nearly immediately. Then they're in the open brisk air, green trees all around them. "There's vehicles over there," Bucky says, pointing. Steve runs over to them, his companions piling in after him as he hotwires it. It's not that hard, he's had plenty of practice, so they're going shortly, Bucky and Nat in the back, both in a confused and shell shocked silence._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Ok, I'm now taking questions," Steve says, ramming through the fence._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Why's she glowing?" Bucky says, looking at Nat. He doesn't sound afraid, just curious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Yeah, I'd actually like to know that myself."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You don't know?" Bucky asks in shock, looking at Nat at the same time as Steve says: "That's your first question?" Really? Your best friend breaks you out of a HYDRA facility with some stranger and tech that's extremely advanced with a goddamn metal arm, and the first question isn't about yourself? Well... it's not every day you see someone destroy the enemy and float off the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Steve... I promise not to kill you, but you have to be honest. Has anything like that happened before?" Nat sounds pissed. Like—pissed pissed. Like she's about to slit his throat. Which might be fair..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He sighs, looking around the path in front of them. This was going to be awkward, even if Nat didn't end up shooting him in the head. "Your eyes. Whenever you get emotional, they glow. I thought it was harmless and I just... couldn't bring myself to tell you." He looks at her in the mirror, her eyes a striking green looking back at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They say the eyes were the gateway to the soul, but hers don't look murderous—well not that murderous—just upset. He recognized that look. The look of someone he had hid things from that they had the right to know. Was Steve really that stupid? Twice? The worst part is that he didn't even realize he was doing it again until he saw those glassy eyes. The same ones he saw before he almost killed the man he loved. She looks away and the moment is gone, a stray hair tucked behind her ear falling loose in front of her face. "Eyes on the road, Rogers."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Nat," he protests, focusing back on the road sprawling in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"We're not doing this now. I don't want to kill anyone else today." That's the end of that conversation, but Steve knows there should be more. He also knows that he should be focusing on getting them back to America. This wasn't the end, it couldn't be. Or else, he would've lost two of the people he loved the most the same way when it was his fault._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It's Bucky who breaks the long silence finally with a clear of his throat. "So... what about my arm?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Steve is silent for another moment, biting his tongue. "Ok, this is a long story and I need you to listen. In the 40's, after you fell from the train, I went on to crash HYDRA's bomb plane into the Arctic Ocean. You went on to be captured by HYDRA, and tortured for 20 years into becoming a murderer for them."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Bucky chokes out a nervous laugh. "Ok, but what really happened?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"He's not kidding," Nat says, not looking up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'm sorry Buck. So I was found by the American Government in the year 2011 and—"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"What."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"It's... it's 1972 right now, please just... let me explain." He falls silent, a confused look on his face, but Steve continues. "In 2014 HYDRA assigned you to kill me. I ended up breaking your mind wipe and found you again a year later. In 2019, a being called Thanos collected six magic stones and decimated half the universe. You died then. In 2023, Tony Stark, Howard's son, invented time travel so we could bring the other half of the universe back to life. Nat and I are here from the future to fix the bad parts of the past and return the stones to their rightful places."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You're not... kidding?" He says, looking down at his hands, then back up at Steve, their eyes meeting in the mirror._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"A hundred percent serious."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Wow... okay..." he laughs, his chest rising shakily. It's a lot to take in, Steve gets that, but Bucky was never exactly one for hysterical shocked laughter. Although, Steve was fairly certain he had never been given a story like that. "So what now?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"We find a way back to America, then you can see the Steve that belongs in this time stream. Howard found him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Shit."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Shit was right_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	7. Your eyes looked like coming home

Making it home is the easy part, Steve is sure of it. They only end up getting in one more fire fight with HYDRA and Steve is able to get Howard to send a boat to pick them up in Europe. Easy train ride right? 

Fucking wrong. They make it as far as Germany before running into the unfortunate blockade known infamously as the iron curtain. They try to get past, citing their Russian personalities and affiliations with the KGB. Then they get thrown in prison. Try having a ridiculously high metabolism in a fucking soviet prison. Then try your best friend having the same thing. By day 3, Steve is running a fever for the first time since 1943. Nat was still a little mad at him, but not so mad that she wasn't sitting next to him every moment of the day, holding his hand and feeding him the few rations they got. Bucky wasn't in as bad of a shape, thank god, but even he was bed ridden with a headache. On day 6, Steve starts vomiting. Yes, you're right, that is very counterproductive for a man who's sick because he lacks nutrients. 

Also on the 6th day, Natasha finally breaks down crying. The whole trip, she had been trying to get control over her new powers and was no closer then than she was when she began. "Did you learn nothing in Siberia?" She says into his chest, his shirt damp with her tears. 

"Apparently not. I'm sorry, I love you." 

She looks up at him with swimming orange eyes. Her eyes scan his face carefully. "It's doing it isn't it." He nods once in confirmation. It must've been something in his face, maybe "I'm going to... here." She sets her hands on either side of his face and they begin to glow. He's not worried; he trusts Natasha with every fiber in his being even when he shouldn't. But right now, he definitely should, because he can feel his body temperature regulating to its normal status and his head clearing. 

The first thing he does is hug her as tight as he could. She just pats him on the arm. "I know, Steve. Ok, if I can get this under control, we can just blast our way out of here, right? Maybe?"

"Worth a shot," Bucky says, sitting up. "First, I decree that we get some fucking food." 

"Amen," Steve says, letting go of her. 

She rises to her feet, looking down at the magic still floating through her fingers. It's like a punch to the gut, the way she admired it. She was dirty from not showering and there was a big red pimple on her cheek bone, but in that moment, Steve could've sworn this was the most beautiful he's seen her. He shakes it out of his head... probably just residual fever shit. "Alright boys, what do you say we test this out." She smirks at them, raising a brow with her eyes a fiery orange. A ball of the magic swells in her hand and she hurls it at the wall. It... spreads across the wall like rippling smoke. Steve feels his chest deflate a little. "Or not..." she looks down at her hand, all the glow gone from her eyes. She sits down at the foot of Steve's bed, hunching over her hand. "Any ideas." 

"Well... it's the soul stone, so you could try a guard?" Steve offers, shifting to throw his covers off. 

"Can't hurt?" Bucky offers. 

She quirks a brow and shrugs. "May as well, right?" She rises, sauntering over to the cell bars. She hangs against them, calling out in a coy voice. "Guard? Guard?"

Footsteps approach and a tall man glares down at her. "What do you want?" He says in a gruff heavily German accent. 

She smiles at him through the hard, wrapping a hand slowly around a bar and shifting her hips. "Could you help me with a little problem I'm having?" She asks slowly, dragging her eyes up his body. 

"What is it?" He asks, voice still gruff, but more open now. 

She reaches her hand out of the bars, trailing a finger down his jaw, leaning as close as she can. A thin coil of magic sparks around her finger and his body goes rigid. "I'd just love it if you would open this cage for me." 

He hesitates only for a moment before fumbling with a ring of keys and opening the cell. "Yes, for you." 

"Thanks champ." She pushes it open, patting him on the shoulder. "You comin boys?" She looks over her shoulder, all of her swagger replenished by the easy success. Steve climbs to his feet and helps Bucky up. 

"Your girl's scary Stevie," Bucky mutters once she's out of earshot. 

"We're not dating, but yeah." Steve helps him out of the cell smirking at the shocked look on his face. 

"Wait, what do you mean? Steve, you told her you loved her." Bucky sounds almost scandalized, but Steve considers it payback for all the nasty shit Bucky did in their apartment all those years ago. 

He chuckles, bumping his shoulder. "We're from the future pal." 

"You're fucking crazy, that's what you are." 

"Come on boys!" She shouts from down the hall and well... they'd be stupid to disobey a direct order like that. 

Nat knocks out probably half of the Soviet forces in Germany that day, and they finally get to west Germany. Then they steal some food, which makes Steve feel bad, but not as good as eating almost enough to sedate the pit known as his stomach makes him feel. Nat, in a moment of pure genius, goes to the US embassy and weaves them a tale of how Steve and Bucky were American agents stranded in the Soviet Union after a Korean War mission gone wrong and how they picked her up from where the Soviet government had left her to starve and die as they made their way here, got imprisoned, escaped from jail, and broke through the iron curtain. They were granted safe passage to England the following day, with the stipulation that they had to do interviews about their heroics once they got there. 

She doesn't even use the Mind stone. That's just straight up assassin training right there, and it scares the shit out of Steve. 

The next day, they're in England posing at that US embassy for the front pages of a newspaper proclaiming: US VETS STRANDED IN KOREA SAVE RUSSIAN WOMAN LEFT TO DIE BY SOVIETS. Then they get to Howard's boat and are off on the way back safe to America with time to spare. It's Howard who greets them, and he looks a mixture of thrilled and pissed. "The news paper! Seriously?" He proclaims, then sweeps them all into a rather awkward hug. "I mean really, you were supposed to keep a low profile," he grumbles, then let's go of them. "Hey Barnes, glad you're back with us."

"Glad to be back." 

They're swept into a car and rushed to New York by private plane, where they are all escorted into a private room that, if Steve had to guess, was 32 degrees Fahrenheit, given the ice crystals still frozen of his face laying in front of them. This Steve is hooked up to a machine, although Steve doesn't know what it's measuring given that he was still frozen solid. "We can begin thawing him now.. based on the tests we did on human models, I think we have a basic idea of how not to kill him." 

"Reassuring. What you can't do, hopefully the serum can." Steve says, peering down at his own face. "Nat, how do you feel about dressing up like you're pretending to be from the 40's?" 

"Well, I'd be honored."

"What?" Howard says. 

"I also need a sports broadcast from 1943 or earlier and a fake hospital room that looks like it's in the 40's." 

And boy does Howard deliver. By some miracle, he finds the same broadcast Steve had woken up to all those years ago (from now?), and they get Nat into a just questionable enough 40's nurse outfit and stick the thawed Captain America in a 40's hospital room. All that's left now is to wait for him to wake up. Nat taps her foot, standing next to him and watching the footage through the tiny embedded camera focused on him. Bucky was sitting deadly still on a cushioned velvet chair, waiting with a nervous silence. 

"You're cute," Nat says, tilting a head at the sleeping Steve on the screen. 

"I'm always cute Nat," he says, bumping her with his hip. His beard was shaven off and his hair was bleached and re dyed to blond, but still much longer then this Steve's hair. Other then that, they may as well be clones. The implications of that were scary for Steve, and he didn't really wasn't to think about it actually. He looks over at her with her loose hair and too thick tie and smiles. "Say hi to me for me." 

"Not gonna do that." She looks at him then back at the screen. "Say hi yourself dork. He's gonna react just like you did." 

Steve shrugs, his eyes flitting to Bucky, who's hands are folded on his lap. He's wearing a shirt without a left arm, the gleaming metal on display for the first time since they've got him. "We don't know how he's gonna react to time travel though." 

"Well given that we got his bff back from the dead, I'd say he's gonna be pretty chill with it." Slowly, they watch him begin to stir, blue eyes fluttering open. "I'll see you in a second dear." She opens the door as he looks around the room, going over to the stereo to turn it down. "Captain Rogers, it's nice to see you awake." 

"How'd I get here?" 

"We fished your plane outa the ocean, dear."

His eyes scan her clothes, her hair, then the stereo. "The broadcast. I was there. Where am I?" 

"You're in a recovery room in New York," she fiddles with the leaf of the potted plant, feigning nervousness. 

"Where am I?" He repeats, standing up. 

"Please sit down Sir," she says, holding her hands out and taking a step back, her fingers twitching for a gun that wasn't really at her side. 

He shoves her out of the way, slamming the door open with his shoulder and throwing SHIELD guards off of him. He smashes through a glass window and takes off running. Nat comes up next to him, shucking the fake nurses uniform in favor of the black widow suit underneath, tossing the fake bra to the side with the dress and donning her black boots. "He's fast." 

He comes to a stop, looking around at the changed landscape. It was far less drastic then Steve's change, but it was enough to give him pause. Steve weighs the shield in his hands, shrugging. Outside, Peggy steps out of a vehicle, an apologetic smile on her face. They exchange a few generally scripted words, then he sweeps her into a hug, burying his face in her neck. They exchange a few more words, then she leads Steve back inside. Steve fiddles with the collar of his uniform as Steve jr's eyes land on them, darting between the two of them. "Okay, I've gotta ask, what the fuck." 

"It gets weirder actually," Nat says, looking over at Bucky who is rising from the chair, nervously waving at him. "You have some catching up to do, cap," Nat says, walking up to him. "Lucky for you, we happen to be great at summaries, would you like to get some lunch." She sets a hand on his arm, smiling kindly. 

"Sure? I mean—Bucky?" 

"Yeah yeah, hey pal. Like she said. Lots of catching up to do." Steve looks at Bucky, registering the hidden absolute delight in his words. 

Steve jr. strides up to him and hugs him tightly. "Thought I lost you," he says, one hand finding the cold metal arm. 

"Can't get rid of me that easy, Punk," Bucky says, returning the hug with full force despite his feigned nonchalance. Steve smiles at the two of them, the moment a stark contrast from his own reunion with Bucky. 

Steve jr pulls away, keeping a hand on the metal arm. His eyes find it. "That's new. And then.. me with long hair." 

"Pretty much," Steve says

"Great. Lunch then." 

"Lunch then," Nat agrees, walking purposefully towards the SHIELD cafeteria. There was already a table set for four with two extra chairs for Howard and Peggy. For the most part, the facility was shut down entirely, so there was little chance of interruption. Steve jr sits next to Bucky and Nat sits across from him. The two of them do most of the story telling this time around, Steve only butting in to add that Tony was currently almost 2 in this reality. 

It's a long awkward conversation that omits many many details from 2023, but that wasn't even their future anymore. There was no telling how much they had changed the events to come in this timeline. Then Steve jr picks up a slice of pumpkin pie, a disbelieving chuckle on his lips. "So then what the hell do we do now. You guys are leaving, right?"

"Yeah, we've got places to be. You I assume will go take down HYDRA. For forever. We can tell Howard and Peggy everything we have on the infiltration of SHIELD, and the rest is up for you." Steve says, looking at Nat, who is staring right back at him. 

"And.. look out for Tony. He's really important to the future," she adds, taking a fry off Steve's plate. 

"When are you going?" Bucky asks, drawing both their attention. 

Nat shrugs. "Soon. Maybe today even." 

"We've got this mostly wrapped up. Howard's using his pull to get rid of the newspaper article with us on it, so that's nothing to worry about. SHIELD is coming up with a story about how they found Bucky. There's no reason for us to stay," Steve adds. Besides it would be better to get out as soon as possible. They didn't want to accidentally let too much information from their time into this reality, so they had to leave quickly. 

"Good luck in the rest of the past." Steve jr says. "I hope you complete your mission." 

"Us too," Nat says. Howard and Peggy show up shortly and Steve takes a moment to himself, imagining himself in Steve jrs position. He didn't quite have the life he wanted, but he could live here for the rest of his life. He was never going to fall in love with Tony, but he was going to be happy here. With Howard and Peggy and Bucky, it was close enough. It was also close enough to 2012 that he would still be ready to face the Chitari when they came. 

The only thing that could go wrong here would be the eventuality that Tony never became Ironman. That... well, Steve couldn't bear to think what that would do to this reality. It was risk that had to be taken though. 

They leave Howard a file downloaded directly from HYDRA's servers on the infiltration of SHIELD, along with a letter addressed: To Tony, on his 21st birthday. Steve had written it while they were infiltrating HYDRA and left it here with their stuff. Net smiles down at Tony, grinning up at her. "Hey kiddo," She says, picking him up. 

"Hi At," he says, grinning. 

"You're Uncle Steve and I are gonna leave for a while, but I promise we'll see you again." 

He frowns at that. "Bye bye?" 

She nods, kissing him on the forehead. "Bye bye Tony." 

"Ok." He hugs her neck tightly, pouting. "Love you," he says. 

"I love you too dear. Say bye to Steve, ok?" 

"Bye bye Seeb," he looks up, waving. 

Steve waves too, adjusting the straps of the shield Howard had made for him to take out of some new Vibranium he had bought from a maybe not so legal source. "Bye Tony."

"I'm gonna put ya down now, okay kiddo." 

He nods, pouting at her. She sets him down in the crib, swiping her thumb on his cheek. "You ready?" 

"2014 Morag?" 

"Let's go." The suits form easily around them, and they share a smile before punching in the disappearance. Left behind, Tony watched them leave, going back to his coloring book. As far as he was concerned, they would be back in a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, Steve’s shield is actually listed as “the new shield” in the script, so if you were wondering, he actually probably did it get from Howard again


	8. We fall in love till it hurts or bleeds or fades in time

They arrive just after they had left, and Nat stoops over to pick the stone up from where it sat on a rock in a tiny plastic bag. The unconscious form of Peter quill lays in the same position it had been in every other time, his mouth hanging open. Nat's suit dematerializes, revealing the Black Widow under it. "Should I slap him?" 

Steve's suit comes off too, and he shrugs. "I guess." 

She snorts, but crouches down next to him. This was their only mission here, there was largely no reason for them to try and do anything. Soon enough, this time stream would be on the exact same path it had been on before. Their actions here were so small that there was no point in meddling. They could try and stop the Avengers from splitting up, but at this point, there was no reason to do that. 

The resounding slap to his face echoes and his eyes snap open, and he scrambles back, eyes darting between Steve and Natasha. "W—Captain America? Am I dead? Oh my god, I died." 

"No? You're not dead," Nat says, still crouching with her elbows on her knees. 

"Oh yeah? Then why is Captain America here." 

Steve rolls his eyes, opening the container Howard had made them for the Power stone. It wasn't much like the original, but it would work at least. "I'm not dead either, Starlord." Nat opens the bag, putting the stone into the opened capsule. 

"I'm gonna faint." 

"No, you're not," Nat says, taking it and snapping it shut. "This is what you were sent here to retrieve, we got it for you." She tosses it to him, as he catches it, eyes wide open. 

"Captain America and the angel got me the orb." 

"For the last time, you're not dead. We're time travelers." 

"I didn't know the government had time travel in the 40's," he says, squinting at them.

Nat rolls her eyes. "Yep, sure, fine. Now get out of here, there's other people looking for that thing." From what they had learned from Rocket, Quill would be attacked shortly. His ship had been brought back here from Vormir, 

"Right, right, yes ma'am." He stumbles to his feet, brushing his pants of gravel. Steve hands over the power stone and Peter looks up at him. "Thank you for your aid, Captain America," he salutes Steve and Steve tries not to burst out laughing. 

"Yeah yeah, get outta here Starlord." Peter gets stars in his eyes, but he goes back to his ship dutifully, a bit of a skip in his step. From the machine on his belt, too loud 70's pop music starts playing and he gets into the ship, taking off. 

Nat sits down on one of the rocks, leaning back. "He's an idiot." 

Steve sits next to her, grinning. "Doesn't this feel too easy to you?" The ship flies up towards the expanses of space as they sit. 

"Don't jinx it, moron." She leans her head on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. "Not that I'm not having fun, but I'm looking forward to returning to the proper timeline." That made sense. She had only came on this journey for him, and even he could register the improvement to his overall mental health issues. He still didn't really want to go back, but he could. He could once all this was over. 

"Tony's alive right now," Steve says noncommittally. He would love to go down to earth and.. and what? At this point, him and Tony were just starting to get along, and he had no reason to go to earth. It would be nothing short of self indulgent and reckless. (Although wasn't all of this?). 

She shifts. "He loved you too you know. In a different way, but he did." And that.. that he couldn't mess up. That would be starting now. 

"Thank you." He looks down at her, her eyelashes fluttering gently against rosy cheeks. "For everything, I mean." In another life, it could've been her. She might've never felt the same, but he could have fallen in love with her easily. He could still, with enough time. Loosing Tony was less raw now, but Steve loved him as much as he ever had. He never really had to stop loving Tony though, but he knew that if Tony were here, he would tell Steve to go for it, that he deserved to be happy. For all his bravado, Steve knew that deep down Tony just wanted everyone to be happy, and if that was with him or without him, so be it. He liked to pretend to be self centered, but Steve knew very well that it was all an act.

She looks at him, green eyes crystal clear. "Steve.." It's possible that he's just a moron, but he can't tell at all what that means. What he even wanted it to mean. He feels the common sense leaving his body as he leans forward to kiss her. Their lips meet and sparks fly—literally. From nowhere, gold light rains down on them, each one sending heat rippling through his skin. Her lips were soft. 

Before he can reach up to put a hand on her cheek, she jolts back, the sparks zipping out of existence. "Uh?" Nat says, confusion deeply set in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry I—I don't know what that was," Steve says, leaning back as not to crowd her. He feels his cheeks turning bright pink with embarrassment. Seriously, what was he thinking. 

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's ok I'm just.. startled is all." She stands up. "We should be going though." 

He jolts to his feet. "Yeah, probably." 

"Asgard?" 

"Ok, uh, sure." 

They dial in the coordinates in awkward silence, and Steve is very aware of the redness in his cheeks. He hadn't exactly... meant to kiss her, but it had just felt so right. It felt.. right, like it was meant to be. But is she didn't feel the same way, then he knew far better then to pursue. First of all, his mother raised him better then that. Second of all, even now he was lucky to have all his body parts intact. Third of all, he respected her too much, loved her too much to try shit. So no, that was one thing he wouldn't be pursuing. 

"Let's go," she says, her voice shaky. 

"3..2..1" Steve presses the button to send him hurtling through the timestream, finding himself in a hallway in Asgard with... no Nat. Oh no. She could... no, there wasn't anything that could keep her, she was time traveling. She had to be... lost? Dead? No. Then a flash of light and there she is, falling to her knees and gasping for air. Steve exhales, sinking down next to her. "Nat? Are you ok?" 

"They didn't... they wanted me to stay—I don't.." She trails off, waving desperately with her hand as if she was trying to explain. 

"Who?" 

She regulates her breathing, setting a hand on her chest. "The.. I don't know. Like.. shadows. They grabbed me—wouldn't let me go." Great. That makes no fucking sense.

"Well, they're not here n—" 

"Loki! How did you escape your cell!" Thor booms from behind them and Steve lets out a sigh. 

"I'm not Loki."

"That's what Loki would—Natasha?" His eyes land on Nat and dart between Steve and her. "Are you okay?" He says, apparently aware of the fact that she is still on the ground, clutching her chest. 

"Yeah yeah," She says, waving her hand. 

"How.. how are you here?" He holds up his hand for mjølnir, his eyes widening when Steve twists as it flies out of his hand. "What?" 

"Ok, we've definitely got some explaining to do," Steve says, offering Nat a hand. She takes it, pulling herself to her feet. She leans against him even once she's up, which is how Steve knows it's serious. Personal feelings aside, he had to make sure she was ok as soon as possible. 

Thor nods. "Certainly. We must walk and talk though, I must go to see the lady Jane at once." 

"Actually it involves her," Steve says, following Thor as he walks. "We got the reality stone out of her." 

"The.. the aether?" 

Steve holds up the recently collected plastic bag containing one reality stone. "That's the one. We had to borrow it, but you can have it back now." 

"You didn't need it for very long then," Thor observes, taking the bag. 

"Well actually," Nat says. "We're time travelers, so, we had it for a week or so." 

"Oh time travelers! Wonderful. What year are you from?" Thor says, making a brisk pace that Steve can feel Nat struggling to keep. 

"2023–10 years from now," Nat says, not protesting when Steve slides a hand around her waist to assist her. It should feel weird, given the circumstances, but things have changed since then. This was the heat of the moment now. 

Thor nods. "I will tell Lady Jane of the good news. You must remain for the revelries, the convergence is nearly upon us." 

"We'll see," Steve says. 

"Stay here." Thor pushes through a door, leaving them alone. 

Steve directs his attention back to Natasha. "There's about to be a fight."

"Duh."

"I want you to stay out of it." She squints at him, then opens her mouth to protest. "Please, we don't know what's happening here and you're not at 100%."

"I can handle myself," she says stubbornly. 

Steve clenches his jaw. "You can hardly breathe!" He exclaims. 

"I'm fine now, and I'm powerful as hell." 

"You are not fine and you haven't practiced." 

"Even without using the mind stone, I'm good in a fight, even if I'm a hair winded, Rogers. I'm not staying out of this just because you say so."

"At least... stay with Jane. Protect her, if the need arises, but stay with her," Steve pleads.

Alarms start going off far above them, and Thor runs up behind then from a hall. "It's the prisons, can you help?" He extends a hand to them. 

Steve takes it. "Promise me Natasha." 

"I'll be safe." Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but Thor was already propelling then towards the castle. So there was no time to think about it. No time to think about hardly anything before they're locked in combat with escaped prisoners. 

Steve can see Loki standing and watching them, watching him especially, as they tear through their enemies like butter. 

"It has been far too long friend Steven!" Thor shouts, a grin on his face. 

"Yeah, I missed you too bud."

"Lady Jame expressed an excitement to meet you." 

Steve slices through the neck of a prisoner with his shield, feelings claw scrape at his skin. "Well I'll have to meet her then." Truth be told, he had met Jane once at one of Tony's parties shortly before Ultron. She was nice, smart. Reminded him a bit of Peggy, especially when Thor retold the part of their relationship where she slapped him... twice. Thor had eyes for her and only her. A week later, they were broken up and nobody could ask him why because he was MIA for a few days, only returning at the beckoning of Strukers base. Then he was gone for entirely different reasons and Steve didn't see him again until the battle of Wakanda. 

"You shall," Thor agrees, sending a volt of electricity zipping through the body of the final prisoner. Steve sees his gaze lingering on Loki before he turns away, but the younger asguardian is staring at Steve still. "Let's go." Upon reaching the surface, they find a barrage from alien ships and Steve adjusts his shield. Here was the true attack. The one in which Frigga died.

Thor freezes for a moment, taking in the carnage. "Come on, we need to get back to them." Steve offers Thor his hand, and he springs into action, flying them across the war zone and sending them crashing through a beautifully ornate window. No sooner do they enter when a burst of golden light flies out, sending both blonds stumbling backward. Deep below then, the castle rumbles and Natasha screams. "No no no no," Steve says, breaking out into a full sprint. "Natasha!" He shouts. This could be bad, this could be really bad. Really really bad. 

He hears Thor running after him, but pays him no heed as he bursts through a set of already splintered doors to find Natasha wrestling her arm away from a shadowy figure protruding itself through a splinter in the air. Frigga springs into action before Steve can, using magic to force the creature back through the splinter and close it. "The convergence shouldn't be happening yet," she declares, brushing her dress down. Steve's eyes land on the two enemy soldiers laying very very dead on the floor in a heap. 

Steve pays them no mind as he grabs Natasha before she can hit the floor, her eyes glowing wildly as she stares up at him, clutching her throat. "Breathe Nat, breathe." He folds her into his chest, feeling her body tense up and slowly relax into tremors. He looks up and meets Thor's inquisitive eyes. "Long story. What do you know about the mind stone?"

"One of the six singularities created at the dawn of the universe, sister to the aether, lost to the ages." 

"Not lost," Frigga adds. "Banished, hidden away on purpose. Only a select few know the whereabouts of the mind stone when it was deemed too powerful and volatile to remain in use." 

A shiver goes up Nat's spine, and Steve rubs her back gently. "Right. Well, long story short, we found it. Nat sacrificed herself to it and then I sacrificed the stone to get her back. Apparently, it's okay with overstepping, because it gave her powers. Now there are shadow people. Don't know what that's about." 

"So.. your body will combust in the way that Lady Jane's would've?" Thor asks, looking very suddenly concerned for his friend. 

Nat looks up at Steve with a glow in her eyes, but before either can say anything, Frigga is there. "Presumably no. If you truly went to the cliffs of Vormir and returned, that means the stone only has a piece of itself in you, the same way you were partially in the stone during your time in the afterlife. Lady Jane had the entirety of the Aether inside of her, which caused the danger." Oh thank god... gods? Steve's thoughts are reflected in Nat's face as she relaxes visibly. 

"Where is Jane?" Thor asks, also relieved that his friend is safe for now. He surely wants to be the first to tell her the good news. 

"I sent her to my quarters with Lady Natasha." She fixes Natasha with an unimpressed look at that, but Thor pays it no heed, instead nodding and running off, presumably to find Jane. "I was supposed to die then, wasn't I," Frigga says as soon as Thor is gone. Her words hold no emotion and she holds herself regally, but Steve thinks he sees a flicker of pain pass her face. 

Steve chews the inside of his lip. "Well.. you died sometime in this battle." 

"Meddling with time is dangerous." 

"We've dome it before," Natasha says, peeling herself away from Steve's chest, but still holding onto his shoulder. He rests a hand on her elbow to keep her steady. "Can you take the stone out of me?" 

"Like I said, it's not really in you. Just part of it. There isn't enough to remove." 

"And the shadow people?"

"My first guess was inter realm beings, but realistically, it's probably inter time beings or inter dimensional beings." 

Fucking wonderful. "What do we do about it?" Steve asks, rubbing her elbow with his thumb. 

She raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. This is new territory for everyone. You're time travel long with the mind stone, there's no protocol for this sort of thing. She rubs her elbow slowly. "I know you saved me, which is nice, but if that's all, I need to find something to kill me before the battle is over." 

"No, don't do that." Nat says, seizing up. "Thor and Loki need you." 

She smiles at Loki's name, still looking sad. "They need nothing but each other." She steps away. "I'll see you again, perhaps." 

"No no you can't just—" Steve is cut off by a flurry of yellow smoke that envelops her. She's gone by the time it clears. 

"Is that... it?" Nat says, relaxing into his side once more. 

Steve rests his arm around her shoulders. "Well, I don't think we should be here when Thor gets back. I also don't particularly want you traveling yet." 

"I'm not fragile."

"No, but you're in pain. Don't look at me like that, I'm not dumb." 

She huffs, crossing her arms. "I can handle myself."

He clenches his teeth together. "I don't want you to get hurt." 

"I don't care if you have a crush on me I—" 

"That's not what this is." 

"You kissed me!" She points an accusatory finger at him. 

"Well, I didn't mean to!" Steve throws his hands up, no longer holding onto her elbow.

"Maybe you should've!" 

"What?"

"I didn't hate it!"

"Then why'd you push me away?!" 

"I was fucking surprised!" She takes a step closer., pressing her finger to his chest.

"You..." Steve feels a blush creeping across his cheeks. 

"You're such a moron Rogers." She snakes her hand around his neck, pulling him down to press their lips together. He sets his hand on her lower back in a steadying motion even though he feels like he could fall over at any second too. She's warm, he realizes, but it might just be the feeling of overwhelming calm slipping over his body. 

Her lips part and he lets his own follow suit, feeling her tongue slip into his mouth, running along the roof of his mouth. She tastes like summer nights and cherry blossoms, and she was the most amazing thing he's ever felt. Her other hand rests on his waist, a gentle weight grounding him. If their first kiss was good, this was earth shattering. If he could freeze this feeling and hang onto it for the rest of his life, he would. All too soon, she draws back, her hair in strands framing her face perfectly. They don't move away from each other, and Steve rests their foreheads together gently. "That's not what I was expecting." 

"Don't ruin the moment," she instructs, her breath warm on his neck. "I really am feeling better." 

"Now who's ruining the moment." Steve rubs her back with his thumb. This was right. This was good. "We can go.. if you want." 

"I'm not... Steve, I'm not what you want," she says suddenly, pulling her forehead away from his suddenly. Steve furrows his brows, but before he can get a word out, she continues. "I can't.. they sterilized me in the red room. I can never give you the life you deserve—"

"Nat. That's not.. important to me, ok. If we ever get there, I'm more then okay with adoption." He rubs her arm soothingly. 

"But—"

"No buts. Do you think Tony could've given me biological children? That's not why I loved him and it's not why I love you. Most importantly, it's not the only reason to fall in love, ok? I promise."

"Ok."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So lots of emotions in this one... In my original draft of this story I had Nat and Steve bring Bucky time traveling Doctor Who style for a while and Nat and Bucky falling in love. Well, I abandoned that idea clearly, but that’s because I wanted to show Steve moving on in a concrete way and the way I want to end this... well, let’s just say that that storyline wouldn’t have worked out. I hope you’re enjoying so far! My posting might get a little splotchy coming up here, I’m nearing the end of the school year, so there’s a lot I need to wrap up, but I do intend on finishing. I love you all!


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